In The Least Likely Of Places
by lavender baby
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Hermione has never been needed, Draco has never needed anyone. So when she takes a trip to find herself and stumbles across her old enemy-turned-good in need of help, will she realize that the key to herself is in him? R&R!
1. Chapter 1

YAY! HERE IT IS! My first Draco/Hermione fic!! Hopefully it will be up to the standards of you HP fans!  
  
Disclaimer- This disclaimer stands for the entire story. I, lavender baby, intend no infringement on the Harry Potter series or any other work by the amazing J. K. Rowling. I'm just a lowly fourteen-year-old with no life and an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter. Please don't sue me, my parents would get upset.  
  
**********  
  
I, Hermione Sophia Granger, have always been replaceable.  
  
Astounding I know, considering how I'm one of the Boy-Who-Lived bests friend and one of his right hand men. Or woman.  
  
But the sad truth of it is that I'm not fundamental to anyone at all.  
  
~*~  
  
It all started in fifth grade in grammar school.  
  
All my life, up until fifth grade, I had been the coddled daughter of my dentist parents and I had had a lot of friends. True, I was quite a bit smarter than everyone else and I tended to act superior because of it, but I still had friends. But then, in fifth grade, there were curves for the tests, grades started to become important, and popularity started to matter.  
  
That year I had no one. Everyone hated me because I trashed the curve for the tests, and brainy Hermione Granger wasn't popular. Smart girls can't be popular because it goes against the unwritten rules of popularity. Silly, I know.  
  
So that year I figured out that I wasn't so special after all. Unfortunately, I loved my good grades too much to purposefully do bad on tests, so I continued to trash the curve and my classmates continued to think I was a snob. A smart one, yes, but a snob nonetheless.  
  
But then the summer after fifth grade rolled around and WA LA! I was special again. It was because I had gotten my Hogwarts letter and I discovered that I didn't make weird things happen because I was weird. They happened because I had magic! Real magic!  
  
That summer almost made fifth grade worth it. I had magic and none of my former classmates did. That made me special right? I mean, how many people had magic?  
  
Boy was I naïve.  
  
Because the day that I stepped into Diagon Alley to get my school supplies rolled around, and wham! A LOT of people had magic. I figured maybe I wasn't so special after all. But it was still alright, because none of the people I knew had magic, so I was still happy.  
  
And my first year at Hogwarts was well, magic. I became best friends with Harry and Ron and life was great. Life continued to be great until I met Draco Malfoy, the official bane of our existence. Ron, Harry, and mine's that is.   
  
Oh I was still happy, but he made me realize that there had been generations of people with magic and that I was new. I was a mudblood. He didn't call me a mudblood until second year, but he made me feel like one since the beginning. I have to say that I did feel slightly put out to discover how new I was to this magic thing, but it was alright.  
  
Everything was alright up until fourth year.  
  
What happened in fourth year was that Harry was selected as a school champion and I made some unhappy discoveries. Oh I was so happy for him, but Ron, on the other hand got jealous. This tore up their friendship and they became mad at each other for months!   
  
That, of course, was horrible, because I only wanted all of us to be friends. Them not being friends put a big strain on me to try and be friends with both of them separately. I could tell that Harry was horribly lonely, so I started spending more time with him.  
  
I can't say it was horrible, having time to spend alone with Harry and then some with Ron. But the only bad thing was, as I was with them separately I could tell that I wasn't enough.  
  
I wasn't enough fun for them. Oh I was Hermione-the-brainy-best-friend, but I was also Hermione-the-slightly-boring-best-friend. They were bored with me as they were never bored with each other.  
  
Soon, after the first task, Ron and Harry became friends again, but the damage had been done to me. I realized that although all three of us would always be friends, Ron and Harry could continue to be friends even with out me. They could go on like always, well, except maybe the quality of their homework would drop, but basically, they would still figure out a way to have fun.  
  
It made me realize that it was the two of them, and then me as an afterthought. I can't say it was pleasant, but I coped. Didn't I always?  
  
And the hardest thing was, the entire school looked up to me. I was the oh so wonderful Hermione Granger with the big brains who could solve any problem out there. I was recognized as the smartest witch to pass through Hogwarts, maybe even smarter than Minerva McGonagall. And talent, well despite me being muggleborn, I seemed to have talent in the cartloads.   
  
And yet everyday I asked myself, why wasn't I happy?  
  
And now, you say how could I be happy with Harry's life on the line and Voldemort being back and everything. And I say that it weighed very heavily on my mind, but then again, I wasn't necessary for the war with Voldemort. Harry was. I was his best friend who'd just fight alongside him. I was too young to join the Order and I wasn't really useful for anything.  
  
Except for making Harry and Ron study, checking their homework, and gaining House points.   
  
I was the perfect Gryffindor and everyone looked up to me, except for the Slytherins. And all through my years at Hogwarts I would wonder why I wasn't happy.  
  
Of course in sixth year I got replaced again. Another mark against Miss Hermione Granger.  
  
Apparently, since I was away from home so much, my parents began to miss having a kid around since I was the only child and I was away at Hogwarts. So what else could they do but have another one?  
  
And so they had another little girl. Helena. Hermione and Helena. How cute.  
  
Now don't get me wrong, it wasn't as if I didn't like little Lena, but well I felt replaced. And the worst of it was, at age sixteen I became jealous of a baby.   
  
Not only was Helena the answer to my parents loneliness, she was beautiful in a way I could never be. She had the bleachest blonde head of hair that my grandmother had and instead of boring brown eyes, she had the palest green eyes ever.   
  
She was a beautiful baby and obviously was going to be a beautiful child as well as a beautiful teenager and a man-killer adult. I had been officially replaced by someone better. A baby, and that was just pathetic.  
  
Oh I still loved Helena, but the feeling of replacement took a long time to go away. It's bad enough to be replaced, but being replaced by someone obviously better made it worse. Ten times worse. Okay maybe only three but it was still bad. But luckily I had Ron and Harry to fall back on. Right?  
  
Wrong.  
  
At age sixteen, Ron and Harry had begun the irrevocable process of increasing testosterone.  
  
I had always had a little niggling crush on Harry since second year, but then he laid eyes on Cho Chang in third year and well my thing for Harry died a gruesome, painful death.   
  
And then I started to have a crush on Ron. Yeah yeah, I know, don't fall for your best friends.. but it was soooo hard!! But then before my crush for Ron could even really bloom he laid eyes on the beautiful, part veela Fleur Delacour. My thing for Ron was mutilated, tortured, and then murdered.  
  
On the bright side, I met Viktor Krum the year my crush for Ron died, and that was just great. He was an international Quidditch player and he was interested in none other than myself. I have to say that I was truly amazed by that.   
  
I guess he liked brainy girls, considering I didn't have much else to offer and the fact that we met in the library.  
  
Plus, it had the added bonus of making Ron insanely jealous, and well who wouldn't be gratified by that? Five feet eight inches of red headed, jealous male. A teenage girl's dream come true.  
  
But then stupid Viktor Krum had to ruin it by living in Bulgaria. I mean honestly! Bulgaria! I had no luck with relationships, much less a long distance one. So in the end my fledgling relationship with Viktor was chopped into little pieces and burned to ashes.  
  
Life sucked, it truly did.  
  
And then in fifth year, Voldemort hatched another evil plan to get Harry and I put my life on the line. Again. For the cause. For the Order that I wasn't even in. It wasn't as if I wouldn't do it, but I began to feel as if my life had no real direction.   
  
Did the cause really even need me?  
  
Did the Order I wasn't in even need me?  
  
Did Harry and Ron need me?  
  
Did my parents need me?  
  
Did anyone need me?  
  
And for all those questions, day after day, the only answer I could come up with was.... I don't know.  
  
I truly didn't know if anyone in the world, magic or non-magic, really needed me.  
  
Oh I know, I was a smart, courageous witch fighting for the cause. But there were so many other smart and courageous people already fighting for the cause. What was one more?   
  
But then my logical thinking took over, and I told myself that if every person fighting against Voldemort thought that, then nobody would fight for the cause. So I kept fighting. And I kept wondering. And wondering and wondering.  
  
But the after the fight in the Ministry, Harry lost Sirius. And he was soo lonely. So I was there for him. And in the end, the little thing I had for him, that crush that had died the horrible death in third year came back to life.   
  
Sorta like Voldemort.   
  
Okay that was a bad joke, and I apologize. No more lame jokes in this whiny monologue.  
  
But it came back to life. I started to feel things for Harry. More mature things than I felt in second year. Definitely more than platonic things.   
  
Okay, the bald truth? I had the hotts for Harry Potter.  
  
He made me finally feel needed. My unanswered question of anyone needing me finally had a definite answer.   
  
Yes, someone needed me, Harry needed me.  
  
That made me feel so powerful. Plus his body was filling out, and WOW.  
  
Not that he ever said anything. But I felt it.  
  
In the end though, I can't say he had been leading me on. He really had needed me. In a purely platonic way. In a pure hands off, Hermione-you're-such-a-good-friend kind of way. He fell for Ginny instead. Now that really hurt. My hotts for Harry died in such a horrible way, I've no way of saying it. Yes, it was that bad. But in the end, I managed to hide it from everyone, so at least I was spared the embarrassment.  
  
So sixth year started out with Harry going out with Ginny, and Ron was going out with Lavender, and in the end, one of my questions was answered.  
  
Did Harry and Ron really even need me?  
  
Nope, not at all. They had their girlfriends.  
  
So when I was somewhat sad by Helena's birth, I didn't even have them to fall back on to make me feel better. I couldn't really even find them sometimes. Do you even know how often they would hide in broom closets to snog with their girlfriends? I mean, the amount of times I couldn't locate them was awful. I suppose Harry needed to feel loved because of his loss of Sirius and his pressure as the only one to be able to defeat Voldemort, but Ron didn't really have one. He just plain out abandoned me.  
  
And now your saying that I'm whining and I should have been happy for them. And I was. I was happy for them. It was only that I was alone and happy for them. All alone. Well me and Pavarti sometimes, since she got ditched by Lavender. But well, Pavarti was such a girl. We didn't care about the same things. Sure she was worried about Voldemort being back, but not on the same level as I was.   
  
All I ever really got from my friendship with Pavarti were some hair, skin, and nail charms. Useful, but c'mon, when would I ever really use them? I was Hermione Granger after all.  
  
So pretty much, sixth year was a lonely year for me. And the worst part, and I mean worst worst part. Even more worse than Ron's thoughtless abandonment, was the fact that my loathed enemy, Malfoy, noticed the fact that I got ditched.  
  
And that just sucked even more! I mean, why couldn't he have kept his perfect Malfoy nose out of my stinking business?? Was it really too much to ask?  
  
And once again I answer one of my own obvious questions.  
  
Yes, it was too much to ask. He spent every minute of every day breathing down my neck. Annoying me. Bugging me. Torturing me. Starting whispers in my head and basically driving me insane. The only bright side of this was that Harry and Ron began to notice how much attention Malfoy was paying me, and they began to be with me more just so they could tell Malfoy off when he came knocking.  
  
Okay, so I guess in a way he improved my life a little bit. A very little bit. A very very little bit. But then he had to ruin it by turning out to be not evil. He just had to go and turn to the light. Now I couldn't even call him a stupid, smarmy deatheater. he took away my only enjoyment. And then he compounded it by being more useful than me. He got to join the Order in sixth year. He got to turn spy.  
  
Did the Order need him?  
  
Oh yes, the Order needed him a lot more than the Order needed me. But like always, I coped. But life still didn't improve. God was looking down on me with a big bad frown on his face. I don't think He really liked me. He definitely wasn't nice. But life goes on.  
  
Seventh year finally arrived and somehow life got worse. I was still top of the class, smartest witch to come by Hogwarts, and to top it all off, I was Head Girl. When I got the letter I hopped around and yelled with joy. I had been pretty worried because even though Hannah Abbot, the Hufflepuff, couldn't keep up with me with grades, her amount of rule breaking was a lot less than mine. I have to admit I was worried about being Head Girl. But in the end, I got it. I was Head Girl. And I thought that maybe I wasn't so replaceable after all. Maybe I was special.  
  
But of course life would never be nice to me. I boarded the Hogwarts Express and reported for the Head Girl and Head Boy meeting. I had fully expected to see Harry there, after all, who deserved Head Boy more than Harry Potter?  
  
But noooo.. Life just wouldn't be fair. I entered the compartment for the Head Boy and Head Girl meeting and met the Heads of Houses of the Head Boy and Girl. And there they were. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.  
  
Professor Snape? You ask. Yes, Professor Snape. And yes, that only means one thing and one thing only. My nemesis Draco Malfoy was Head Boy.  
  
Now was that not the cruelest twist of fate? And you wonder why I'm whining.  
  
Well seventh year was a big mix of good and bad. I'll tell you the good first.  
  
Although for the past six years Draco and I had been enemies, apparently he had grown up enough to realize that as Head Boy he would have to cooperate with the Head Girl, which was me. So although we didn't particularly like each other, we managed to keep from publicly sneering each other. We managed to even look like a team to the outside world. In our suite of rooms was another story however.  
  
In private, we'd yell at each other, I'd throw things, he'd call me a mudblood, and we'd end up stomping to our separate bedrooms. It was... interesting, to say the least. Most of our private conversations would consist of something like this...  
  
"YOU'RE SUCH A BLOODY PRAT MALFOY!"  
  
"AND YOU'RE SUCH A DISGUSTING MUDBLOOD!"  
  
"I'D RATHER BE THE WAY I'M BORN THAN THE WAY I'VE MADE MYSELF! UNLIKE YOU!"  
  
"AT LEAST ITS SOMETHING I CAN CONTROL!"  
  
"WELL YOU CAN'T CONTROL YOU'RE STUPIDITY CAN YOU?!? BUT YOU'RE STILL BLOODY STUPID!"  
  
By this time we'd both be red in the faces.  
  
"AT LEAST MY FRIENDS DON'T DITCH ME GRANGER!"  
  
He'd always change the subject when he knew he was losing. It used to annoy the hell out of me.  
  
"WELL YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE FRIENDS TO DITCH YOU MALFOY, SO I WOULDN'T TALK!"  
  
"WHY ARE THEY DITCHING YOU GRANGER?? DID YOU TELL PERFECT SCARHEAD YOU LOVED HIM??"  
  
Okay, now I know I shouldn't have thrown the inkpot at him, but that barb was low and it definitely hit its mark. And you know, even though he knew he won, he'd keep taunting me.  
  
"WHAT GRANGER, NOTHING TO SAY?? DID YOU DISCOVER THEY DIDN'T NEED YOU ANYMORE??"  
  
Okay, so I shouldn't have thrown my ceramic dog statue that Helena made for me at him either, but that barb struck even closer to home. So after I threw (and broke) the ceramic dog, I stomped into my room and wallowed in self-pity because Draco's words felt so true. A few seconds later I heard the door opposite the room slam shut.  
  
That was how Draco and I lived in seventh year, and although you may think it was horrible, sparring with him was sometimes actually fun. God forbid he should ever find that out, but it was.  
  
Also that year, we had the final battle, and as predicted Harry Potter came out on top. I hadn't been severely injured but I did do a lot of damage to the other side. I suppose I had been doubly angry because I had just finished arguing with Malfoy about another Head Boy and Girl responsibility when the school was attacked. I had been so worried about Harry and Ron during the battle that I fought awesomely to try to get to them. Harry did in the end defeat Voldemort and Ron was given the pleasure of helping him. And once again it had been them two, and then me. But it was alright that time, considering Harry and Ron barely made it out alive. I was so happy that they were alive after the battle ended. Good triumphed over evil, and Voldemort was gone forever.  
  
Now for the bad news.  
  
After the final battle, when losses were counted, it was found that Percy and Bill Weasley hadn't made it out alive. Many people hadn't made it out alive, including Pavarti Patil, Colin Creevy, Hannah Abbot, Professor Sprout, and Hagrid. Most of the Order, this time around, lived.  
  
Harry, after the battle, began to seclude himself and cut himself off from many other people, myself and Ron included. Ginny also began to distance herself from others after two of her favorite brothers had been brutally murdered. Harry and Ginny's relationship fell apart that year, and watching it happen was awful.  
  
The night of the battle there was another attack on the muggle population. Deatheaters attacked the tube, and many muggles lost lives that night. My mother and father had been riding the tube home that night from the opera when it was attacked. My mother made it out alive, but my father was murdered by a deatheater later identified as Alexander Jenkins.   
  
I felt as if my life was in ruins. I had always been particularly close to my father, and the taking in the fact that he was gone was hard. I had felt like crying and screaming at the same time when I found out, but I wasn't really allowed to do either. My mother was falling apart and I had to be strong for her. It was so hard that year to put my feelings on hold and be there for her, and I missed an entire month of school because I felt the need to stay with her. Life for me during that time was horrible, and the day that I buried my father is the day I felt dead of emotions.  
  
I was holding Helena in my arms when they began lowering him into the grave, and that was when I finally fell apart. Through all the preperations and everything else, I had held together for my mother, for his friends, for the rest of the family, and I had cut myself from my own pain. Life had grinded to a slow and painful halt for me. But that day, I fell apart and I mourned like a wild animal. I felt all the waste of life and all the pain that Voldemort had inflicted over both worlds and it killed me. I didn't think I'd ever get over it. I didn't even know if I could stand reentering the magical world. Someone, my father, had finally needed me, and I hadn't even been there for him. It broke my heart into a million tiny little pieces.  
  
But life went on, and I went back to school eventually, to finish up the rest of the year. After graduation, instead of taking up many of the job offers I got, or becoming an auror like Harry and Ron, I continued onto Merlin University in Manchester. I graduated from there with top degrees in Potions and Alchemy as well as a minor degree in Charms.  
  
~*~  
  
Its been 5 years since the defeat of Voldemort, and life has indeed moved on for me.  
  
Since my graduation from MU I've garnered much respect from the wizarding world as well as a fat pile of money that I can't ever hope to spend all of. I've lived a respectful life and I've kept in touch with Harry and Ron. I'm still unmarried even though I'm 22, and once again, I've found that I'm not needed.  
  
I, Hermione Sophia Granger, am replaceable, in the most embarrassing and awful way.  
  
I've been jilted.  
  
**********  
  
Well, there it is, the first chapter! I already have the second chapter written out, but I need to type it. So, if you like (or didn't like) it, please review!!!!!! 


	2. Chapter 2

WHOOPEE! Man, I got reviews for my first chapter and I'm sooooo happy! *tear* people are so nice! Getting such nice reviews! It's so WONDERFUL! I actually like where this story is going, and its so much fun to write! I'm going to have a lot of fun with Harry and Ginny in this story, since they're pretty much the bad guys! Hahahhah! I've never written about a bad Harry before, but I've read a few stories where Harry's not in a flattering light, and I thought I'd try and write him like that. I have to say it's hard, because I love Harry so much, but it's definitely interesting! Well here's the next chapter.  
  
**********  
  
According to the magazine, Teen Witch, of all the girls in Harry's life, I was most likely to marry him. Even when he had been going out with Ginny, I was second in the running.  
  
It appeared that those voters had been right. For a while anyway.  
  
A few months after graduating from MU, Ron, Harry and I celebrated at a bar called Dirty Magic. Harry got roaring drunk and confessed to me and the rest of the world, that he had loved me for the longest time and always would. You could imagine my surprise at this drunken declaration. The next morning, Harry appeared at my door with a flaming red face, extremely rumpled clothes, and a bouquet of flowers. He apologized for causing me public embarrassment and if I could possibly forgive him, would I like to go to lunch with him? After he cleaned up and got the smell of alcohol off him, of course.  
  
I struggled to calm my hammering heart and as nonchalantly as I could, I said, "Sure."  
  
Four months later we were engaged and I was receiving hate mail from the multitudes of heart broken fans.  
  
Those first few months were the happiest in my life. I didn't even really mind that my house almost got burnt down by an unopened howlers. I was floating on a pink cloud of happiness and nothing could possibly bring me down.  
  
After the first eight months though, I stopped wondering about the engagement and wondered about the wedding. I know you think I'm moving too fast, but Harry and I had been engaged for eight months going on nine and we hadn't even begun discussing a wedding date.  
  
Okay, so we both led busy and separate lives. He hunted renegade deatheaters and I was working on my potions, charms, and book. But we still made time to talk each night on the floo, even if we didn't get to see each other in person. We made sure to meet at least once a week for dinner. And all right, so our sex life wasn't flaming, red-hot passion, but it was good. And a good sex life is.... well... good, right??  
  
It wasn't even as if we didn't have plenty of opportunities to discuss it. We had plenty, but for some reason, we didn't discuss it. The wedding was like some sort of forbidden subject and I was too worried to bring it up.  
  
Finally, around out ten month mark of being engaged, I got too antsy and brought it up. We were eating dinner in The Grasshopper's Hop, a new, trendy American restaurant, when I finally brought the wedding up. We hadn't seen each other for a month, because he had been away in Bulgaria looking for John Makeroy, a notorious deatheater who loved to torture muggles. So we had plenty to talk about as we sat and ordered and waited for out food, but once the food arrived we fell into an uncomfortable silence as we ate.  
  
I watched as Harry lifted his beer to his lips, "Harry," I began hesitantly, "How... how.. how was Bulgaria?" I finished in a rush.  
  
Oh God, I had chickenedd out, I couldn't ask. All my Gryffindor bravery had deserted me in my time of need.  
  
He looked at me puzzledly, "Bulgaria was cold... but beautiful, I guess."  
  
"Oh. That's nice."  
  
Oh that's nice?! That must have been the lamest sentence I had ever before uttered. 'Come on Hermione,' I told myself, 'screw up your courage and ask!'  
  
Harry, thinking that my sudden burst of curiosity must have been over, had gone back to eating and silence descended like a heavy blanket. I fingered my french fries and poured more salt on the,  
  
"Harry..." He looked up from sorting his small fries from his big fries. Lord, he must have been really bored.  
  
"Harry.. do you think we should talk about the.. wedding..?" His eyes widened slightly, and if I hadn't known him for seven year I might not have noticed that his eyes grew shuttered. But I had known him for seven years so I did see his eyes widen and grow shuttered. My stomach twisted itself in painful knots.  
  
"Well.. we're still young Hermione.. no rush right??"  
  
A lump started to grow in my throat. I had suspected it for a while, but now I was sure. Harry and I didn't talk as much, and we hadn't had sex in 3 months. Harry didn't love me anymore. I felt like sitting on the floor and crying my eyes out.  
  
"Hermione...?" He said uncertainly.  
  
I looked up at him and at their own volition, my eyes filled with tears, "Harry, you don't love me anymore do you?" I asked sadly.  
  
He started suddenly, "Of course I still love you Hermione!" He grabbed my icy hands and held them in his big warm ones, "I told you Hermione, I'll always love you."  
  
"Are..are you sure Harry?"  
  
"You silly goose, of course I'm sure."  
  
That night Harry and I went back to my flat and we made love that night for the first time in three months. The morning after, I woke up smiling but found myself alone in a big bed. It wasn't until that afternoon when I was researching wolfsbane that I realized that we still hadn't discussed the wedding date. I frowned.   
  
The next time we saw each other, we finally put down a date. We'd get married next year on Valentines day.  
  
I know, I know.. Valentines day.. how romantic! But well.. it was an entire year away! I guess I really was impatient to get married, but I had always had a crush on Harry for so many years, I guess I couldn't wait to get settled down with him. I wanted my life to be perfect, because I was supposed to be perfect.  
  
I had to have the respectable life.   
  
Have a successful career. Check. Have a loving family. Almost check. Be respectable. Check.  
  
Well my life was good that year. I made new discoveries in potions. Wrote a new Charms book. Went on a book tour. Discovered a better wolfsbane potion. Made another fat pile of money that I hardly spent.  
  
And now looking back on it, I should have spent that money. I should have spent it on ridiculous things such as getting a new haircut, getting new clothes. I badly needed a makeover.  
  
I'm of average height and of average beauty. I'm five feet six inches, I've got normal maple syrup colored hair and chocolate brown eyes. My nose is a little too flat for my own comfort, my mouth a little bit wider than normal, and my chin just a little too strong and stubborn. I wasn't a striking beauty like Ginny Weasley, but I was pretty, maybe a little bit more than pretty, but I wasn't a beauty. My hips were too full, my waist small, my breasts on the small side, and my legs didn't go up to my ears, but I was comfortable with my body. I just didn't take good care of it.  
  
My hair, which no longer frizzed but curled quite a bit grew out long and unmanageable, I wore loose fitting clothes with no apparent style, and I never wore a stitch of makeup on my face except for when I went out to a society dinner with Harry.  
  
I suppose I can't really fault Harry for jilting me in the end. What did I have that a million other girls didn't have? I was pretty, smart, and well, I guess that was it. I smiled a lot, but it took a lot for me to laugh. I wasn't very outgoing, and well I suppose I didn't pay much attention to Harry's needs. But despite all that, it tore me apart when I found out Harry had jilted me.  
  
When two months before our own wedding I woke up, brushed my teeth, put on my ratty robe, toasted a bagel, and got my Daily Prophet.  
  
And there it was. Right on the front page in glaring, black letter.  
  
HARRY POTTER ELOPES WITH VIRGINIA WEASLEY, DAUGHTER OF MINISTER OF MAGIC.  
  
I think I had been holding a cup of very nasty coffee, since I can't make coffee to save myself, when I read that headline. I think I might have dropped it and broke one of my best china cups. That morning for me, was very blurred.  
  
I looked down at the reporters name and sucked in a huge breath. Rita Skeeter. That couldn't possibly be good. As I scanned the article, I saved the picture for last. When I finally looked at it, I think I might have burst into tears.  
  
There was a picture of Ginny and Harry standing in front of the Registry's office and they were kissing with all the fire and passion that my relationship with Harry lacked. I went back to the article and read more slowly. I realized that they had actually interviewed Harry.  
  
Daily Prophet: Harry! Congratulations!  
  
Harry Potter: (Smiles broadly) Thank you!  
  
DP: Now we have to get down to business. What possessed you to elope?!  
  
HP: Well Ginny and I used to have a relationship back in my sixth and seventh year of Hogwarts, and well, a week ago we ran into each other at the Ministry. Things just exploded from there I suppose.  
  
DP: Really? Did you just realize what you had been missing out on all those years?  
  
HP: Oh yes, after we saw each other again, it was like fireworks. We just realized what a mistake we had made in breaking up all those years ago.  
  
DP: How romantic! But Harry, I have to ask, weren't you engaged to marry you're old school friend Hermione Granger?  
  
My hands were shaking so badly at this point that I had dropped the newspaper. I had to stoop and pick it out of the coffee puddle on the floor, lay it on the table, and continue to read.  
  
HP: Yes, well, I had realized about a week before I saw Ginny that things just weren't working out anymore.  
  
I gasped, we had had dinner that week, and he had acted just the same as always. True he had left me on my doorstep with just a goodnight kiss, but I had been tired so I had thought that's why he didn't bother coming in.  
  
DP: Really? So you broke it off with Hermione Granger?  
  
HP: Well...  
  
I could tell he was getting embarrassed now. The bastard hadn't broken it off with me, and he didn't want to tell that to the Daily Prophet. I was beginning to seethe.  
  
Unfortunately, since Rita Skeeter was conducting the interview, she noticed that Harry didn't want to answer since it would make him look like a bad guy, and she was really after me. The bitch.  
  
DP: Oh Harry! I forgot to ask, why weren't things working out with Hermione Granger? You had been friends for years, and everyone naturally assumed you'd be getting married.  
  
Stupid me, I had assumed exactly the same thing.  
  
HP: Well you know that I love Hermione dearly, but I came to realize that I only loved her as a friend.  
  
I wanted to pound the bastard's face inside out. Do friends who love each other as friends get engaged to marry and have sex?! No, I don't think so. What a slimy, stinking prat.  
  
DP: I see.. and what made you come to that realization?  
  
HP: Well Hermione is such a lovely girl..  
  
GIRL!? I was NOT a bloody girl! I AM NOT a bloody girl! I'M A WOMAN!!  
  
HP: But she can be a bit staid at times, and very focused.  
  
Staid?! First he publicly humiliates me and then has the bloody nerve to insult me too!? Oh, I could just imagine Rita Skeeter's malicious smile.  
  
DP: Staid?? What do you mean by staid Harry?  
  
HP: (wink) well you know.. a bit boring.. and she's very focused on her work. Why we hardly ever got to see each other because she'd be working on developing another potion or charm! You can imagine my feelings.  
  
BORING?! FIRST STAID AND NOW BORING?! AND THE REASON WHY WE NEVER SAW EACH OTHER WAS BECAUSE HE SPENT ALL HIS BLOODY TIME CHASING DEATH EATERS ALL OVER BLOODY EUROPE! I COULDN'T BELIEVE HE PLACED ALL THE BLAME ON MY HEAD! I WAS THE ONE WHO GOT JILTED HERE!  
  
DP: Yes.. I see.. well I'm going to let you go now Harry, I know how newly weds are. (wink)  
  
HP: Yes, goodbye and wish me luck!  
  
Oh he'd need luck alright. Lots of luck since that would be all that'd keep me from murdering him. And of course Rita Skeeter would let him go, after all, she got everything she needed said about me. She got her perfect revenge. I was publicly humiliated, insulted, and jilted. I didn't see how I could ever hold my head up in the wizarding world ever again.  
  
I was shaking so badly at that time from a mixture of pain and anger that I took a shower to calm myself. I cried so much in there that I might have bathed in my own tears; it certainly felt like I did. I couldn't believe that Harry would do such an awful thing to me. I had been one of his best friends since we were eleven, and he threw it all away on a whim. I meant nothing to him, less than nothing to him, and that hurt so badly. This rejection was one of the worst I had ever gotten in my entire life. No, I corrected myself, it was THE WORST rejection I had ever gotten. I could literally feel my controlled life slipping out of my fingers.   
  
After I got out of the shower, I stood in front of my mirror naked for the longest time. I looked at my reflection and I searched and searched for the flaw in me that made me feel so unperfect. What was it about me that made people reject me? What was it, that made me so unneeded, and so unimportant? Was it my hair? My teeth? My legs? My brain?  
  
I kept looking at my reflection and all I could see were my flaws. My hair was too thick, my mouth too wide, my nose too flat, my brain too smart, my focus too much, my control too strong, my self-esteem too low. Everything about me was TOO much. Too big too small, too strong too weak, too thick too thin, everything! Harry didn't need me, he had the lovely Ginny. My parents didn't need me, they had the beautiful Helena, the world didn't need me, they had the perfect Harry Potter.  
  
And standing naked in front of that mirror, I felt a panic unlike any other. It was worse than the one I felt watching Harry duel Voldemort. I could feel the hysteria rising in me and smothering me.   
  
I didn't know who I was.  
  
Who was Hermione Granger?  
  
My entire life had been shaped by other people. By their needs and wants and desires.  
  
Harry needed a rock, so I had been his rock. Ron needed someone to check his homework and nag him, so I checked his homework and nagged him. Professor McGonagall needed a protégé, so I was her protégé, Professor Snape needed someone to pick on, so I let him pick on me. Professor Dumbledore needed someone to make smart decisions for Harry and Ron, so I made them. Gryffindor needed house points, so I got house points. The wizarding world needed new potions and spells, so I dedicated my entire life to finding new potions and spells.  
  
I was Hermione Sophia Granger, Hogwarts student extraordinaire, brave Gryffindor, brilliant strategist for Harry Potter. I was for everyone else. I pleased everyone else.  
  
Everyone else but myself.  
  
What if in Hogwarts I didn't want to gain House points, but lose them? What if I wanted to break rules? Okay, so I did break rules, but they were always for a good cause, so it took the fun out of it. But what if I wanted to break rules for myself? For selfish purposes? Or what if I wanted to bully and pick on first years? What if I had wanted to snog every single heterosexual male in the school?  
  
Did I ever get to do any of that?  
  
When I think back on it, I led a very boring life at Hogwarts. So except for the occasional save the world adventures I had with Ron and Harry, my life at Hogwarts was very boring. I did my homework every day, I was the model student, and I didn't even really have fun.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Ginny had Quidditch. Neville Longbottom had his toad to chase around the schoool. Parvarti and Lavender had boys to crush on and snog with. Even Draco Malfoy had fun bullying other people and being the school bad boy.  
  
I was Head Girl. With responsibilities. With more rules to uphold. With the reputation to keep.   
  
I was boring and staid. Hell, I AM boring and staid.  
  
I didn't know who I was.  
  
I like my eggs scrambled and slightly dry. Why? Because that was how Molly Weasley made them, so that was how I liked them.  
  
What was my favorite color? Green, because that was the color of Harry's eyes.  
  
What was my least favorite color? Gray, because that was the color of Draco Malfoy's eyes.  
  
Everything that was me, was defined by somebody else. Why couldn't my favorite color be red, just because? Why did it have to be green because of Harry?  
  
How come I never got bad grades and did drugs? Because my parents wouldn't have liked it.  
  
I really think the only part of myself that was me, was my ugly clothes and bad hairstyle. And I didn't even like that part!  
  
I didn't know who I was, and I realized that I haven't known who I was for the longest time. I had let my life spin out of my control, and the entire time I had though I had been in control. What a fool! Everyone but me had been controlling my life. I saw that now, and it got me so angry!  
  
I put my ugly clothes on and marched back into my kitchen. With a flick of my wand I cleaned up my mess. I folded my slightly soggy Daily Prophet and threw it onto my coffee table carelessly. I phoned into my office and said I wouldn't be coming in today and I wouldn't be coming in for the next two months. No, I didn't care about any meetings I had with publishers or editors. Yes, reschedule them, and yes it was urgent.  
  
I went back into my bedroom and took out my brown suitcase. Yes! Brown! I know, what kind of successful woman who can afford the best uses an ugly brown suitcase? But it was alright, because that was about to change.  
  
I threw in one extra set of clothing, changed my clothes into the brightest colors I had, which were, very sadly, a cream blouse, blue denim jeans I didn't even know I had, and a pale green jacket that must have been fifty years out of date. I also put into my suitcase, my toothbrush, my brush, my toothpaste, some underwear, and necessary things. After that I carried it out into my living room and found my ugly, matron looking purse, which I put in my wallet, the Daily prophet, and some chewing gum. I think my only bad habit was my need to chew gum all the time. I think it might have come from being a chewing gum deprived child, since my parents were dentists. But ever since I discovered gum, I've never gone without it. I chew when I'm nervous, or hungry, or bored, or anything. I could never go without gum for a while.  
  
After that I went to my office and looked around my messy desk. The week before I had gotten a letter from my American pen-pal Melanie Garwood. She had been introduced to me when I was seventeen by my parents friends. We had kept in touch ever since and had grown quite close through muggle post and telephone calls. She had become a successful actress and I had even watched a few of her movies, which were very good. Melanie lived in Los Angeles, California, and last week she had written to me saying I needed a bachelorette party, so why didn't I fly to America and stay with her for a while? I hadn't answered her back yet, because I didn't have much free time, but now I was writing back.  
  
Dearest Melanie,  
  
Harry and I have broken up. I'm coming to America. I'll be at your house in a month.  
  
Love, Hermione  
  
I slipped my short letter into an envelope, wrote her address, and put on a ton of postage stamps.  
  
As I was going back to the living room, I saw a head floating in my fireplace. There he was, Ron Weasley, looking extremely uncomfortable and nervous.  
  
"Hello Ron." I said as calmly as I could.  
  
"Er.. Hello Hermione. Did you happen to.. uhh.. get your.." Although I couldn't see his body I could tell that he was fidgeting madly.  
  
"My Daily Prophet? Yes, I did actually."  
  
He flushed, "So then you saw.."  
  
"The article? Yes.." I laughed hollowly, "It WAS on the front page after all.. Hard to miss you know?"  
  
"Hermione I-"  
  
A voice behind him interrupted, "Ron, I've found the bubbly!"  
  
I stiffened at the sound of Harry's voice. When Ron looked over his shoulder, I walked over to my suitcase and laid the letter on top. Ron's eyes widened when he saw the suitcase.  
  
"Are you going somewhere Hermione?"  
  
"Yes. I am." I said frigidly. I couldn't help but feel betrayed by Ron. I had been jilted this morning, and he was celebrating. My heart was broken and I was going through an identity crises and he was going to drink wine and toast my ex-fiance's marriage.  
  
"Where are you going?" He asked a bit desperately.  
  
"To America to visit a friend."  
  
I saw the confusion in his eyes and for some reason, it really set me off.   
  
"Yes, Ron." I said acidly, "I do have friends other than you and Harry. But oh wait, I suppose I can't really count either of you as-"  
  
Ron interrupted, "Hermione I'm sorry, but-"  
  
"No. It's alright Ron. I understand, I suppose." I felt my eyes filling up with tears that I didn't want to shed, "She is your sister after all, and Harry's been your best friend since you were eleven.."  
  
"You've been my best friend since I was eleven too Hermione, but I-"  
  
"But I'm not as important." I finished for him, although that probably wasn't what he was going to say. "Its okay, Ron, go drink wine with Harry."  
  
He looked at me miserably, "I don't want to Hermione. I want-"  
  
"I have to go Ron. I'll send you a postcard." I needed to go quickly, because I was about to burst into tears again.  
  
"Hermione, you can't just up and run to America!"  
  
"I can do whatever the bloody hell I want Ron! Do you think I can stay here?! I can't show my face anywhere after what Harry's done to me!"  
  
"But you don't have to go to America!"  
  
"I need to get away! Don't you understand Ron? Harry's broken me and I need to pick up the pieces, but I can't do it here! I can't do it in front of everyone I know and love or else I'll end up just the same as before! Plain, boring, Hermione who'll probably end up a lonely spinster! I HAVE to get away!" By this time, the tears were rolling freely down my face and I was miserable because Ron was watching me cry.  
  
"Hermione..."  
  
"Goodbye Ron."  
  
He flushed angrily, "Hermione you can't just-"  
  
I flicked my wand at his face, and he disappeared with a slight pop.  
  
I stood there and gazed at the fire for a little bit before I collapsed onto the top of my suitcase. I was going to leave soon, but first I was going to have a nice long cry.  
  
**********  
  
Okay! there you go! It was interesting was it not?! Next chapter.. hmm.. maybe there'll finally be some Draco and Hermione interaction.. maybe.. I can guarantee some interaction if I get tons of reviews!!! Muahhahahah! I like reviews! I'm greedy for reviews! And now I'm going to shut up before you think I'm a complete psycho.  
  
I have to say, I've been getting relief since I've started to write this story. Hermione's voice is no longer in my head talking before I go to sleep. Now it's only Draco, and trust me, our favorite Slytherin is going to need lots of Hermione's help. I love having a prince in distress. It's so much better than the cliched damsel in distress, don't you think?  
  
REVIEW!!! Or else.. ;)  
  
PS. Is anybody willing to beta this for me? I'll be really nice, I promise! 


	3. Chapter 3

OOPS! Sorry this has taken so long to write! I know you're getting upset and all but please don't hurt me! *dodges rotten potatoes* hahahha! Anywho! This february has been very hectic for me.. so please forgive me for taking so long!  
  
**********  
  
I got proof of my embarrassment when I tried to flee the country. I mean.. when I was leaving on my "vacation".  
  
After I had cried for a good long time I had pulled myself together and tried to look at least a little happy. I didn't pull it off. But at least I tried. My eyes were swollen and red, my face was blotchy, and the little mascara I had put on in the morning was running. The truth? I looked like complete crap and if Harry had seen me that morning, I wouldn't have blamed him for dumping me.   
  
So after I attempted to fix my face, which I failed to do, I put everything in my car, yes, it was a boring car too, just like everything else I owned. It was a tan Camry that was a few years old, not at all the kind of flashy car that I could afford and just looking at it made me wince.   
  
Okay, so after I loaded my car I went by the post office to drop off my letter to Melanie, after which, I drove to the airport.  
  
Yes, the airport. I had decided not to go by an International Portkey because if I had, I would have had to go to an International Portkey Station, which would be filled with magical people, all of which probably read the Daily Prophet this morning, meaning they all would have read about me being jilted by the-boy-who-lied. So being my intelligent self, I decided to avoid all the whispers behind the hand and the blatantly curious looks by traveling the muggle way.  
  
Before leaving I had called my parents' travel agent and scheduled a first class seat on American Airlines to Washington D.C, America. I had to explain my intentions to the travel agent whom my parents told much about me to her. She basically thought I was a boring workaholic. No, I did't want a travel package since I wasn't staying in any certain hotel. No, this wasn't a business trip either, this was for fun. Well I hoped it would turn out fun, but I didn't really have high hopes.  
  
My plan was to take a nice long road trip to LA. I figured there was no better way to discover myself than being in a car with my own company for fun. Either I discovered myself or I drove myself crazy. If I managed to drive myself insane, it'd be a large improvement over how I was feeling right now. So after I finished scheduling my flight which would leave in two hours, I drove myself to the airport in London.  
  
Airplanes. They take longer, they're loud, and they're full of muggles, but it wasn't as if I was Draco Malfoy, so I didn't have a problem with them. I actually happen to like traveling in airplanes. When I was still going to Hogwarts, over the vacations my parents would take me to places such as France and Austria by airplanes, and I always enjoyed the sensation of flying in a secure vehicle so unlike a broomstick. Really, I could never understand Harry and Ron's fascination with the things, they were dangerous and unreliable looking to me.  
  
I know that most wizards and witches think that traveling through the sky in a great big metal machine shaped like a bird is abominable, but I've never been a regular witch. I've never been a regular anything. I've always been more of a boring everything. Boring car, boring clothes, boring personality, well I could go on forever, but I won't, because that would be boring, and of course I was trying to stop being boring and well... Okay I'm babbling. On with the story.  
  
So I was at the airport and of course, with my atrocious luck, my flight had been delayed an hour. So I had nothing to do at the airport but wait and twiddle my thumbs for an hour. I hadn't even brought a book with me.   
  
Well being the smart witch that I am, I walked over to the shops in the airport and began browsing. My luck made a 180 degree turn when I found...... an ice cream shop! And yes, they had Ben and Jerry's Phish Food! So of course I picked up a carton of that and a cheesy romance novel. Hey, if I couldn't have a happily ever after romance, I was determined to at least read about other people having them.  
  
So I brought my purchases back to my seat near the airplane entrance and sat down and prepared for a nice long reading and eating ice cream session.   
  
Okay, so I knew that I shouldn't have eaten ice cream. As Harry already said to me before, I had plenty of love handles to hold onto. The bastard. I wasn't ever as rail thin as Ginny was, but instead I had a curvy body that I cursed daily. Boyish bodies were in, curvy womanly bodies were out. Unfortunately I was out, and Ginny was in. Harry that bastard, I think I could curse him until my dying day. But anyway.  
  
So there I was enjoying my corny book and my fattening ice cream when the most HORRIBLE thing possible happens to me.  
  
Harry ran up to me looking handsome and mussed and kneeled in front of me and proclaimed his undying love.  
  
HA. HA. HA. That my friends, was an example of dry wit. Yeah, it wasn't funny, but you know what? I'm not really in a mood to be funny. I'm in a more sardonic mood because you know what? This one bastard who I could just.... Oops. I'm off on a tangent again.  
  
Okay so the Harry this was a joke. A un-funny joke, albeit, but a joke nonetheless.  
  
So the next worse thing happens to me that shouldn't have happened to me since I was in a MUGGLE airport.  
  
I was sitting there wallowing in self-pity and minding my own business when a high screechy voice interrupts my spoon's journey to my mouth.  
  
"HERMIONE?!"  
  
I glanced furtively around and caught a glimpse of perky brown hair. I quickly looked into my depleted tub of ice cream and considered trying to drown myself in it. It would take a miracle but I was definitely willing to try.  
  
"HERMIONE GRANGER?!"  
  
'Yes, that's right', I thought sourly. 'Announce it to the whole damn world, why don't you.' I finally gave up on my notion of drowning myself in the ice cream since I had eaten most of it and there wasn't much left to drown in.   
  
Instead, I looked up towards the heavens that were obscured by the terminal's roof, and prayed the ground would open up and swallow me and spare me from the embarrassment I knew was coming. It was a long shot, but if it could happen to Marie Sheffield, it could happen to me too.  
  
"HERMIONE GRANGER, IS THAT YOU!? IT IS YOU!"  
  
NOOOOOOOOOOO, I thought in anguish. I had been recognized! I was doomed! I was forsaken! I was cursed! I was ruined! I was... over-reacting....   
  
I took a deep, fortifying breath and tried to gather all my Gryffindor courage. Gryffindor courage, I kept telling myself. When I felt the light tap on the shoulder, I pasted a huge, fake smile on my face and stiffened my Gryffindor back-bone as I turned around.  
  
"Lavender! How... erm... surprising to see you... here...!" I exclaimed as brightly as I could.   
  
My old school-mate looked at my strangely, "Didn't you hear me calling you, Hermione?"  
  
"Oh.. I.. uh... couldn't hear you..?" I scooped a big spoonful of ice-cream into my mouth to keep myself from talking, which was a big mistake because it was REALLY cold. I began making strange faces at Lavender as the ice cream froze the inside of my mouth. She began to look at me as if was demented.  
  
"You couldn't..? Well that odd.. I thought I had been pretty loud..."  
  
I gurgled slightly in response.  
  
Lavender began to look at me with concern as well as if I was demented. I finally swallowed my ice cream, after all, I didn't want her to call the paramedics. I was going through an identity crisis but it wasn't as if I was demented. At least, I didn't think I was... but then again.. I couldn't be sure.  
  
"Oh.. er was that you calling me? I thought perhaps someone else was calling... erm.. another Hermione.." I began to feel really stupid after that lame excuse. So to make up for it, I smiled widely. Maybe a bit too widely because she began to look at me suspiciously.  
  
"Yes.. right.. of course.."  
  
And to my complete horror her eyes flickered over me and right before she pulled her ingratiating shades over them, I saw a layer of disgust for my choice in clothing.  
  
It infuriated me. I mean, wasn't it enough that I realized I had horrible taste in clothing, but now she had to look down her enormous nose at me as if I was worth less than her! My hand clenched around my plastic spoon and my abnormal smile became more of a baring of teeth. I almost growled at her. But I managed to reign in my anger.  
  
As I began to bring myself under control, I almost gasped. I had felt a horrible amount of anger towards someone! I was making progress! I have felt intense anger before but only on behalf of others, not for myself! But I had just gotten violently angry at Lavender on my own behalf! I almost smiled normally.  
  
"So.. what are you doing here Lavender?" I asked pleasantly. To my elation, I didn't have to fake it either because my mood was much improved by my realization.   
  
"I have a muggle cousin who is flying in today from Scotland. I'm here to pick her up." Then she slid in real casually, "And you? What are you doing here?"  
  
Damn. She'd thrown a fast one at me and I hadn't ducked in time. Damn damn damn.  
  
As I began to panic, my smile dimmed slightly at her sneaky question. I mean, how was I supposed to answer that? Lavender is dumb, but she's not a Hufflepuff by any means. The only person who I could fool would be Pansy Parkinson, but even that would take effort and Lavender is definitely no Pansy Parkinson. If she had already read the Daily Prophet today and if I told her I was going to America, she'd think I was running away, which I was, but I didn't want her to know. But then I'm a very bad liar so if I tried to lie, she would know that I was lying and if she already read the Daily Prophet she would jump to the conclusion that I was running away, which I was, but I STILL didn't want her to know.  
  
Lavender shifted slightly and I saw the Daily Prophet, all rolled up and sticking out of her garish and over large handbag. I was doomed. I knew it. I had no options left but to be utterly embarrassed. She had already read the newspaper this morning and obviously knew about my predicament.   
  
I was staring as if mesmerized at the Daily Prophet when she waved a hand in front of my face rudely.  
  
"....Hermione....? Yoo hoo.. Hermione... you in there..?"  
  
I started and glared at her, "I.. I..." Merlin! She was making me stammer! "Um... I.. I'm going.. I mean.. I'm taking.. erm.. I'm taking a short trip to.. America.."  
  
Lavender gasped in delight and then tried to mask it as surprise. "No! Really?!"  
  
"Er.. yes.. that's right.." I began to blush.  
  
And the little bitch smiled so knowingly that I knew she was delighting in my embarrassment. She now had a confirmation that I was running away and the first chance she got she was going to spread it around. She'd be the toast of busybodies for a while since she'll have been the last person to talk to me before I left.   
  
As if that wasn't enough for her, she had the nerve, the AUDACITY, to pat my clenched hand comfortingly and say, "It's quite all right, Hermione. I understand. I can't BELIEVE what Harry did, but I want you to know that I understand what you're going through."  
  
I bared my teeth at her and didn't even try to make it resemble a smile.  
  
"I'm sure you do." I growled. It took all my self-control to not rip my hand from hers and HIT her with it! After all, how could she possibly say she understood, when even I didn't even understand what I was going through! Especially since she knew that I knew that she was going to be the spreading word of my fleeing the country, at the first chance she got and that it would be rotating the rumor mill for years to come! Because of her nosiness and spitefulness I would have to return to England with a new identity AND a new face, if I could come back at all! She had ruined my chances of leaving without too much embarrassment and she was positively reveling in the fact that she could tell everybody about this. I swear to Merlin she was glowing with an unholy light! I was dying with the urge to punch her so hard I put out her light.  
  
But despite my very violent urges, I had enormous restraint, so I didn't end up hexing her into oblivion.   
  
I calmly slid my hand out from beneath her and said coldly, "Look, Lavender, its nice of you to say you understand even though you're obviously lying between your teeth." I took a moment to savor her shocked expression before going on. "But you don't understand and you couldn't understand because your level of intelligence is extremely low. Not that I have anything against you for being dumb, after all, some are born smart and some are born not so smart, and you just fall into the latter category through no fault of your own." Lavender's jaw was inches from the ground. "But, I don't want to keep rambling so... go away.. I have a flight to take and you're beginning to annoy me."  
  
And luckily, oh god luckily, my flight number was called. So I picked up my carr-on bag and my tub of ice cream and started walking to the entrance. And right before I went through the door, I turned around, wiggled my fingers in an insulting imitation of a wave, and swept through the door.  
  
I was grinning the entire way to the plane.   
  
As I sat in my seat I took a moment to appreciate Lavender's stunned face. She hadn't expected such an attack from me, and her utterly surprised face cheered me up considerably.  
  
Step 1 of the Create A New Hermione project had been completed. I had been utterly rude and I couldn't bring myself to care less. But as I went over the conversation, I frowned somewhat sadly. If Lavender couldn't understand me, and I couldn't understand me, would there be anyone who could?  
  
I could only hope that going on this trip would help me find who the real Hermione was supposed to be, because I honestly didn't know.  
  
~*~  
  
I jolted awake as the plane began descending for landing. The plane ride had been boring and monotonous, and since I hadn't brought any work with me, I had had nothing to do but read my cheesy romance novel.  
  
During the part where the heroine risked her life to save the hero and almost died, I started to cry. I mean, after she saved him from certain death they had a very lusty reunion where he declared his everlasting love and in the epilogue they were married and had kids and were happy.   
  
Magic was supposed to be a fairytale right? So since I've got magic, my life should be a fairytale too. But I've saved Harry's stupid hide more times than I can count on two hands but he's never declared his everlasting love for me. It wasn't fair. Why did the plain one in those romance novels ever get a happy ending? Why was it always the skinny, beautiful one with big blue eyes who got the hero?   
  
Maybe I was cursed.  
  
Hey, curses happen all the time. Maybe I was cursed with unattractiveness.   
  
When I started to cry while reading my book the really quite handsome guy next to me gave me this weird look and started scooting closer to the window. That made me cry even harder as a realization came to me.   
  
I didn't get the window seat.  
  
I ALWAYS get the window seat. Maybe I really was cursed, with unattractiveness as well as bad luck. So maybe not getting the window seat doesn't seem like a big deal, but at the time I was distraught and everything was a big deal, so not getting the window seat was like a sign from God. I obviously wasn't destined to have what I wanted in life.  
  
What did I want?  
  
Just somebody who'd love plain, old Hermione. I mean really, is that so much to ask for? I just wanted someone who thought I was interesting, even though I'm not, who thought I was beautiful, even though I'm definitely not, and thought I was the greatest person in the world, even though I obviously am not. Maybe I just had too high standards. And I also definitely wanted the window seat.  
  
So in my despair of my unfair life and windowless seat, I fell asleep and slept the rest of the eight hours to America.  
  
When I woke up, I could look over my neighbor's shoulder and catch my first glimpse of America. My eyes almost popped out.  
  
Washington D.C. was.... Fast. That's the only word I can come up with to describe it. As we went lower the cars were zipping along at an icredibly fast rate and as we descended even lower the people seemed to be moving along almost as quickly as the cars! It was an amazing site. The buildings looked old and grand, and Merlin! They were large!  
  
At any other time in my life I would have traveled to Washington D.C. for a learning experience, but since I planned on driving straight across America, I had no time to spend in D.C. going to museums.  
  
So after taking a glance out the window I went to the bathroom and did a variety of makeup spells that I was now coherent enough to do. I fixed my hair somewhat, wiped off smudges of extremely old mascara, and iced my puffy eyes down. I also did an anti wrinkle spell for my ugly blouse that helped it. Slightly.  
  
As I sat back down in my seat, looking marginally better I began to feel a prickling sensation on the back of my neck 15 minutes later after I took my carry on bag out of the bin to get some muggle makeup. I turned my head and my gaze immediately caught onto the gaze of the man sitting next to me, who before hadn't payed much attention to me.  
  
"Er.. Hello.." I stammered. We hadn't talked to each other the entire time, but now all of a sudden he was staring.  
  
His voice was deep and as smooth as syrup. "Hi. I didn't catch your name." My surprised eyes flew to his hand, which he held out. I took it tentatively. To my great surprise, instead of shaking it like I expected him to do, he brought it up to his mouth and brushed a kiss lightly over it. To my great horror, my palms began to sweat.  
  
"Her-Hermione. Hermione Granger." I squeaked. Holy cricket, I thought. The man was hitting on me!  
  
"You have a very nice name, Hermione." He said still not releasing my sweaty hand. I blushed and took back my hand, which I discreetly wiped onto my jeans.  
  
"Oh.. Erm.. thanks.. uh.. Who're you?" I almost winced as soon as that came out. Who're you? Could I have sounded any ruder?  
  
To my relief, instead of getting offended at my direct question he chuckled, "Zachary Casto the third. My family owns Casto Industries, the shipping business."  
  
Casto Industries? I never heard of it before. "Oh.. I see.. Yes.. I've heard of Casto Industries. Quite a successful business." So it was a little white lie. Who cares? The man was hitting on me and I was definitely not going to be uncooperative.  
  
He laughed deprecatively, "Well this makes it so much easier."  
  
Easier, this makes what easier?  
  
"You see we plan on opening a headquarters in London and I noticed that your carry on bag happened to say 'God bless the Queen.'" He smiled charmingly. "So I was wondering if I could pick you're brain about some prospective places to open at in London and a little about the people there. I know I had just traveled there but well.. I met this woman.. she kept me quite distracted..."  
  
I sat there and gaped at him. Disappointment speared through me. He hadn't wanted to get my phone number after all. He wanted to pick my brain. That didn't sound very loverlike. He already HAD a woman in London. NO doubt she was rail thin with red hair and freckles. Men. I hate the lot.  
  
"Ohh.. erm.." No wonder he hadn't minded my sweaty hand. "Yes well.. I'm sure that-" The intercom which I had been ignoring the entire time came on.   
  
"Please be careful while collecting your bag from the over-head bin. Have a nice trip in America." The plane had landed? I hadn't even noticed.  
  
So I had been saved by the intercom before I got the chance to tell Mr. Zachary bloody Casto where he could shove it. I quickly unbelted myself and scrambled up to get my carry on. The damn man who was too handsome for his own good flowed up and gracefully extended his hand, which was holding a crème colored card.  
  
"I'd appreciate if you'd give me a call sometime, Hermione. It was nice meeting you."  
  
"Hmm.. Yes, I'll try." I murmured noncommittally as I moved hastily down the aisle. Merlin, I had never been so embarrassed in my life. I had actually thought he was hitting on me! At least I hadn't twittered or anything.   
  
Men, why must they always be planting the wrong ideas in a woman's head? Or more specifically, my head? First Harry makes me think he ACTUALLY wants to marry me, what a laugh. Then Ron makes me think he's actually my best friend, what another laugh. And now this Casto man makes me think he was hitting on me! Do men in America who just want to pick a woman's brain kiss said woman's hand? I sincerely hoped not. The next man who kissed my hand was getting his lips sewn together. That was a promise.  
  
I hurried to the baggage terminal where I proceeded to shoot hostile glares at any hapless man to catch my gaze. After I collected my bags I went to the front desk of the airport and began looking for a rental car. I had to find an agency that rented cars here in D.C. and also had a place in Los Angeles where I could drop off the car once I met up with Melanie. After 10 minutes of asking around I came to a desk manned by Auto Rental Plus.   
  
As I came up to the desk the dark brown haired woman looked me up and down and sneered. I almost took a step back in shock. I hadn't done anything to her, so why the bloody hell was she sneering at me?  
  
"Hello." I said stiffly.  
  
"Yes, what can I do for you?" The woman drawled.  
  
"I'd like to rent a car." I wished I could look down my nose at her but she towered over me by at least five inches. Being only 5'5 was a distinct disadvantage when the woman looking down at you was 5'10 plus heels.  
  
"Honey, that would be why you're here." She said condescendingly.  
  
I darted a glance at her nametag. "Alicia, I don't see what I've done to so offend you so if you could please drop the act and do you're job that'd be greatly appreciated." I said in my snottiest voice.  
  
Alicia looked at me with surprise. Apparently she hadn't guessed me for the assertive type, and I myself was surprised. I didn't even know I had such a snotty voice. "Yes, Ms.."  
  
"Granger, Hermione Granger."  
  
The woman cleared her throat, "What kind of car would you like to rent Ms. Granger? We have newest models of Toyota, Hondas, SUV's. I'm sure you're taste runs towards the more sedate cars." A bit of sarcasm leaked into her voice. "How about a nice, SAFE Camry? Tan?"  
  
I gaped at her. Did I truly look that boring? Sedate? And most mortifying of all she had named a car she thought boring and it was the car I had! Good God, how utterly mortifying.  
  
"Erm.." I coughed. "I don't think..." I paused as I watched her smirk at me. Where had I seen that smirk before?  
  
I straightened my back and said in my calmest voice, "Actually I think I'll for the sports cars. Are there any you recommend?"  
  
"Yes, well..." She eyed my battered, old clothes that had wrinkles in wrinkles. "Are you sure... we don't have any used ones..."  
  
I smiled knowingly, "I can assure you, Alicia, that money is no problem."  
  
She sniffed, "Then I suggest you go for the Porsche Boxter Convertible. It's 1674.00 dollars per week plus tax and distance as well as damage fees. How long will you be renting?"  
  
I didn't even flinch. "A month."  
  
"To where?"   
  
"I'll be driving to Los Angeles."  
  
She smiled smugly, "The distance plus all the fees I mentioned will cost you around 11 thousand dollars. Perhaps you'd like something else?"  
  
My only answer was to slide my ATM card across the desk. "Do you have the car in blue?"  
  
The brown-haired woman eyed me suspiciously, "We'll see." She slid my card through and her eyes widened when the card went through. She finished the transaction and handed me my receipt. "If you'll please wait over there." She indicated the sitting area where numerous others were sitting. "Someone will be driving your car over shortly." Alicia grimaced, "Have a nice day."  
  
I smiled sunnily and put my card and receipt back in my wallet without looking at it, "I'm sure I will. Thank you ever so much, Alicia, for you're WONDERFUL help."  
  
I sat down and 10 minutes later found myself standing over a beautiful, deep blue car. The driver smiled at me.  
  
I looked at him questioningly, "How will you get back?"  
  
He grinned, "We have a shuttle that we use."  
  
I grinned back. "I see. Thank you for driving the car over so quickly. I got to get away from that Alicia woman faster all because of you."  
  
"Yup, Alicia's a bitch all right. When she called in the order she was complaining about some snooty Brit, but you seem all right to me."  
  
"Thank you." I winked, "I couldn't agree with you more." I then tipped him heavily and got into the car. He had already put my bags in and I was ready to go. I turned the engine on and it began to purr. I zipped out of the airport and drove Southwest. I was on my way. Today I had been rude, polite, and funny, and maybe I had flirted a little bit. Mission accomplished. I was even almost over my embarrassment with that Zachary Casto man.  
  
I was driving into the sunset and I was well onto my way of finding out who I was and who I wanted to be.  
  
What could possibly mar my day?   
  
**********  
  
MUAHAHHAHAH! THAT'S SORT OF A CLIFFIE.. RIGHT?! RIGHT?!?!? I'm sooooooo sorry for taking forever on this chapter! I told you guys I'd be really busy in February! Anywho, thanks for bearing with me!  
  
I know I know... Draco and Hermione still haven't met each other, but a good story has to have a strong foundation right? So that's what I'm doing. Laying down a good foundation.   
  
I know that I've also been a little mean to Hermione, I mean the Zachary Casto guy... haha I personally found that funny, but well Hermione needs a little grief.. whats that saying about hitting rock bottom?  
  
Oh and a personal thanks to my buddy April who says I'm a terrific writer. That just makes me feel warm and tingly inside. 


	4. Chapter 4

Oh my gosh! You guys are so good to me! let me say that it was the truth that when I checked how many reviews I got my eyes almost popped out! Its such a great feeling to be able to write something and have so much positive feedback! The warm tingly feeling I usually get with reviews were multiplied by a hundred at least and I want to thank all of you for your support! I wish I had the time out to email each of you individually and say thanks, but then I'd have less time to write the story and I think you guys would rather I write this chapter. So anyway, I had some sushi today and it was great and your reviews made me feel wonderful so I'm updating sooner than usual.  
  
Okay I just looked over some old reviews and I noticed this one review I hadn't seen before that was supposed to be constructive criticism. Now I know that I'm supposed to be all gracious about being criticized and stuff but I'm one of those anal people who don't enjoy being told they're doing something wrong so I just wanted to clarify some points even though it says that The Nimrod is no longer an active Fanfiction user.   
  
Okay first of all, I didn't make Hermione out to be a boy-crazy bimbo. To be a boy-crazy bimbo, I would have had to write that she liked every boy in Gryffindor or something like that but I only wrote she liked Ron, Harry, and Krum, which are all very likely and just because I wrote she liked them doesn't make her boy-crazy. I honestly don't know if you're a girl or a guy but any normal estrogen working girl doesn't like only one guy her entire life. I also didn't portray Hermione as a bimbo, since I didn't write that she had done anything remotely bimbo-ish. Also, I admit that I did take the easy way out by killing off Voldemort, but honestly, I don't enjoy writing about him and it was convenient for the plot that you have yet to read about, so I think it's a little early to be judging. I also had no reason to elaborate on the battle because the way Voldemort died didn't matter to Hermione as much as the fact that he's dead. I'd also have no reason to elaborate on how Harry killed Voldemort since this IS a story about Hermione and how Harry killed Voldemort doesn't affect her. How the battle's outcome affected Harry also doesn't matter because again, this is a story about Hermione, not Harry. And why does it matter who had the first kill? Furthermore, I don't really see how Hermione not majoring in Transfiguration really matters either, because what I said she majored in is necessary to the career I wrote for her and Transfiguration isn't.  
  
Ahh.. it feels so good to get it out of my system :)   
  
Here's a little conversation with my good friend April..  
  
Me: why the heck would it matter how the outcome of the battle affected Harry?  
  
Me: i'm writing about Hermione not Harry!  
  
April: hahahah  
  
April: hence..HR/D fic......  
  
Me: exactly!  
  
April: he wants battle explanations then he should read a voldemort fic or harry fic  
  
**********  
  
He walked along the deserted freeway, a mud splattered man whose hair might have once been a silvery blonde but was now indistinct and covered by a layer of dirt. Most would have driven pass and disregarded him, but there was an aura about him that made people look twice. Perhaps it was his long rangy body or maybe it was his determined and angry strides. Whatever it was, the people who would have stopped and helped him because of his powerful aura were greatly intimidated by the feral and almost violent expression on his face. His face reminded them that today in America, it wasn't wise to take on hitchhikers. Even so, they were compelled to slow down slightly, seemingly stop, but he ignored their tentative offers and looked straight ahead, that slightly savage expression glued onto his stone face.  
  
So the people kept on driving, and he kept on walking.  
  
~*~  
  
I sang along with the radio while I drove. Quietly at first, because I didn't want people to see, but as I drove further into the countryside I began to let go, little by little.  
  
Washington had been a wonderful place.   
  
Although I had been determined not to step one foot into a place of learning, I did go to one museum. An art museum that wasn't the top of the line, posh place for the rich, but more of a place for children and people who couldn't afford the fees. I didn't feel ready to go into the area of the rich and snobby whom would take one glance at my clothes and contemptuously sweep me by. Which reminded me that I really needed to go shopping. But anyway, the place was interesting.   
  
It was slightly grubby but very warm with humanity. The kids sometimes touched here and there, but as I didn't see it made a difference, I also didn't see why they shouldn't be able to touch. I had blended in perfectly. Nobody had taken a second glance at me, nobody had noticed me. I was just another person in just another place.   
  
So maybe my mission was to learn how to shine and stand out, but I wasn't ready yet, so why rush the process?   
  
I learned that day in the museum that I had no interest in abstract art. I didn't see the passion that was thrown into a bunch of blobs of violent color.   
  
Instead, I learned that I preferred the softer paintings. Portraits, landscapes, pastels. I was no art connoisseur, but I like to think I recognized the better ones from the ones trying to pose as paintings.  
  
But that wasn't the only occurrence in Washington.  
  
While there, I had an exciting new experience.   
  
I met a hooker.   
  
Yes, a prostitute, and she wasn't even all that bad. Definitely not what I had always thought a hooker would be like.  
  
I had been driving around, wandering really, just looking for a place to eat dinner, when I saw it.  
  
The Deep End.  
  
It wasn't even really a building. It looked more like a small black door squeezed between two walls. It made me look up and around, and I realized then, that I had driven into the less glamorous side of Washington, D.C. I told myself to keep driving, that I, Hermione Granger, had no place going in there.   
  
But even as I thought that to myself, it seemed a little devil had perched itself onto my shoulder.  
  
'Why not?' it asked me. 'Didn't you come to America to have a little fun?'  
  
But the little angel that was constantly sitting on my OTHER shoulder dictating my actions decided to speak up. 'That place is not FUN. It positively yells trouble and chaos. Hermione you are not going in there.' It even wagged its little finger at me.  
  
'Shut up you prissy little prat.' The little devil snapped, leaning around so it could glare at the angel. 'Let the poor girl have some fun. You've been there all this time and looked what happened. She got JILTED. You've shaped her into a boring little git just like yourself. Its no wonder that Harry bugger left her.'  
  
I glared at it. Really, did it have to bring up me being jilted to get a point across?  
  
The little angel sniffed indignantly. 'I am NOT prissy. You have horrible manners and I wish I could banish you off to wherever you came from. Besides, I like Harry, I'm sure its all a big misunderstanding, or perhaps he's going through a stage? Honestly Hermione, you can't possibly think of listening to... that.. THING. Listen to me old gel, have I ever led you astray before?'  
  
'You led her to get jilted.' Came the smug voice.  
  
'Can we please forget the jilted thing?' I turned and asked angrily to the devil.  
  
It held up its hands in surrender, 'Fine fine. No more talk of anyone getting jilted. But really, you need to learn to have some fun. Why don't you go in there and find a good-looking guy to shag. God knows you haven't had a good shag in a long time since Harry bloody Potter can't possibly count. That little wanker couldn't even get it-'  
  
The little angel began shrieking. 'My earrrss!! My poor earrss! Don't say such vulgar things in front of me!'  
  
I rolled my eyes at it. It really was a prissy little thing.  
  
The little devil grinned at me. 'You're not really thinking of listening to that little piece of shit are you?'  
  
'I am not a little piece of poop!' Came the angry reply. 'Hermione you are not stepping one toe into that place and that is my final word! I forbid you to!'  
  
I glared at it. 'You remind me of Harry. Go away and be someone else's boring conscience.' I flicked it off my shoulder and the little devil grinned encouragingly at me and disappeared with a little poof. I glanced around and found myself in a little parking space squeezed between a beaten up car and a motorcycle.   
  
So maybe I was going crazy, but at least I found out that I had a little devil on my shoulder and not just a sissy little angel. It came to me as a somewhat relief that maybe I wasn't only goody two shoes Hermione Granger, that maybe I had a little bit of a devil in me.  
  
As I stepped out of my car I managed to step onto something that squelched disgustingly. I sighed and yanked my foot out of the sticky muck. Only someone with my intense bad luck would manage to step onto that exact spot exactly covered by that disgusting... whatever it was... at that exact moment.   
  
I kept walking toward the bar and tried to become oblivious to the fact that my left heel was sticking ever so slightly to the concrete. I swore that I would not lift up my left foot and check what was on there. I DID NOT want to see.  
  
But despite my resolve I found myself stopping and slowly lifting up my foot.  
  
"Honey, when you step into a pile of shit you don't stand there staring at it. You scrape it off and keep walking or that little bastard over there is going to make you his next mark."   
  
My head snapped up at the sound of the dry, slightly amused voice. What I saw made my jaw almost drop to the concrete covered by the unknown substance.  
  
She was a big, tan woman who looked to be of mixed race. Apparently she had been poured into a pair of black crotch shorts that showed off long shapely legs as well as a black corset looking top that showed off her breasts like offerings.  
  
The amazingly beautiful woman grinned. "Look honey, if you keep staring I'm going to have to charge you." She ran a hand down her hip seductively. "Nothin is free in this country."  
  
I snapped my jaw shut and tried to hold back my blush, but was unsuccessful. The woman sauntered up to me. "Usually I don't talk to your type since I can already tell that you're going to judge me.... but.... I made an exception to you since I can tell that you're obviously one of those snooty rich ladies except you look like crap and little Johnny over there was eyeing your really tacky purse." She pursed her full and blood red lips, "Where'd you get such an ugly thing anyways? The trash dump?"  
  
But before I could answer, a little shrimp of a man sidled up looking like he showered in grease and slung an arm around the woman's provocative hips. "Hey Veronica, wanna party? What's your going rate tonight?"  
  
Veronica the hooker gave a long suffering sigh, "Johnny... I watched you work tonight and trust me you haven't lifted enough wallets to afford me... soo... take your slimy hand off my ass before I cut off your dick."  
  
The man, who I assumed was the same Johnny that had been eyeing my ugly purse, lifted up his hands and held them out in supplication. "Awww.. C'mon Vero.. I'm feelin lonely tonight."  
  
"Then have fun with a bottle of lotion and your hand."  
  
My ears were burning bright red now since I was completely out of my depth in such a crude conversation.  
  
"Why you gotta be such a bitch, Vero?"  
  
The woman in question narrowed her eyes at the little man, "You know Johnny, I was born a bitch so I really can't help it. Now fuck off and leave me and my new friend to chat."  
  
He eyed me up and down, "New friend? She looks like a snotty little bitch to me. Doesn't look like she's a hooker. "  
  
I gasped in indignation. I was NOT a snotty little bitch and he had no right to say so. I had just opened my mouth to deliver a blistering diatribe when Veronica spoke up angrily.  
  
"Do you WANT me to cut off your little dick or what?"  
  
"Fine, bitch. But don't think I'll wanna pay for your 2nd rate service again." Johnny said acidly and he began stalking away.  
  
"There's a reason why everybody calls you 'little' Johnny!" She called after him.  
  
I fingered my wand inside my pocket and wondered if I could unobtrusively turn him into a rat, but before I could make my decision, Veronica turned around and eyed me speculatively.  
  
"So.. what are you doing down here in these parts? You lost?"  
  
I stiffened at her amused tone. "No, I'm not lost. I was looking for a place to eat when I happened to wander down here."  
  
The woman hooted with laughter. "Good God, she's even got a snooty British accent!"  
  
My lips compressed themselves into a thin line, not unlike Professor McGonagall used to do.  
  
"I don't see what's so amusing."  
  
She grinned. "You're what's so amusing, honey. Wandering down here looking like a little lost puppy then managing to step onto Chris's old vomit."  
  
I blanched. Didn't I say that I did NOT want to know what I had stepped onto?  
  
"Par-pardon me?"  
  
"Chris was having a rough night last Wednesday, and had some real fun in The Deep End, but ended up losing most of his dinner as he was walking to his car."  
  
"I..." Gross. Gross gross gross! "Hmm..."  
  
As I was wondering whether or not I would be able to speak without yacking up another puddle no one would clean, the woman held out her hand. I took it slowly and found my hand in a strong handshake.  
  
"Veronica DiCarpio."  
  
"Hermione Granger."  
  
"What is that..? A British name? I've never known anyone named Hermione before. Weird name."  
  
"I've never known a prostitute before either." I said with a polite smile. Honestly! Where did she get off saying I had a strange name? I mean, look at her, she was a hooker, for Merlin's sake!  
  
Veronica threw back her head and let out a deeply amused laugh. "Tit for tat eh? You British.." She shook her head. "Are all Brits as funny as you?"  
  
"I wouldn't know as I haven't met everyone in Britain." I said a bit curtly.   
  
I'm hopeless, I told myself. Here I was with a perfect opportunity to make a new friend who already called ME a friend, and I was being rude and curt just because of her choice of profession. Honestly, who was I to judge since I was, after all, the one who got JILTED.  
  
"Look.. I'm... sorry.." I sighed. "I shouldn't be so impolite, after all, you probably did save me from being mugged by that odious little Johnny man. Its just that.. well I've had a rough few days.."  
  
Veronica nodded seriously but her eyes were sparkling with amusement. "Right... well. Since we've been standing here out in the cold and you're looking for dinner and I'm looking for a place to sit, why don't we go into the club?"  
  
I looked unsteadily at the bar, my early resolve to go in began to crumble. "Erm... well.... It's not exactly... well not my kind of place..."  
  
"Trust me, The Deep End isn't anyones kind of place. Hell, I'm a fucking hooker and it isn't my kind of place."  
  
"Oh. Er. Well... I don't-"  
  
Veronica grabbed my hand and began to drag me to the door. "C'mon, Miss British. Nobody in there will eat you.." She paused and thought about it for a second. "Well not so long as you're with me since they all know me... just... just don't wander off by yourself or anything. Stay by my side and you'll be fine."  
  
Gee, I thought caustically. That does so much to REASSURE me.   
  
I slipped my free hand into my pocket and fingered my wand thoughtfully. I wondered if people would think it strange that I was carrying a stick around. I sighed as I decided that people would indeed think it strange, but I so wanted to have my wand ready in case any drunks or brawlers attacked me.   
  
Veronica shouldered the door open and stepped inside. I hesitated as I saw some fog begin to roll out but she latched onto my arm and dragged me inside.  
  
All of a sudden I felt as blind as a bat in all the darkness and clutched onto Veronica's arm. I heard her musical laugh roll back and prod me forward. I glanced around in confusion as I watched the multitudes of bodies writhe around in a beat that completely blasted the ears.   
  
This wasn't a bar.. I thought, somewhat worried. It was a goddamn club.   
  
The music with its heavy bass beat was pounding on my eardrums and I wondered why I couldn't hear it from outside. But then it occurred to me that perhaps the door had been soundproofed, which was a distinct possibility when I thought about how thick it had been.  
  
Veronica shouldered her way towards a group of tables and luckily found one that was unoccupied. Myself on the other hand was too busy watching the bodies grind in an imitation of dance to worry about sitting down somewhere.   
  
When Veronica yanked me down into a chair I turned slightly and found that right in front of my face was a display of unadulterated lust. My face turned brighter than the sun and I quickly looked away. Veronica saw my expression and let loose with another throaty laugh.  
  
"God, you're so damn innocent!"  
  
"I can't help it if I don't barter my body for money." As I realized what I had just snapped, I clapped my hands over my mouth and watched Veronica in horror. I couldn't believe I had been so rude especially after all she'd done for me. I wouldn't have been very surprised if Veronica punched me, because if I had been her I would have been beating the bejeezus out of me.  
  
Instead Veronica leaned back and looked at me coolly.  
  
"I think.." She said slowly, "that this is the part where I should beat the shit out of you."  
  
"I-I'm.. I'm so sorry Veronica! I've never been so rude to anyone in my life. Except for maybe Pansy or Lavender, but they deserved it and you don't. You definitely don't because you've done so much for me already. You even kept me from being robbed by that little Johnny prat, and I should have never been so rude. What you do is your business and I'm really sorry. I don't care if you're a prostitute, really, because you're so nice and I'm not really one and to judge, especially since I've just been jilted and Harry's embarrassed the hell out of me and I'm so bloody sorry.." I trailed off as I realized that I had been babbling like a fool.  
  
Veronica continued to look at me coldly for a few seconds before bursting into insane laughter.  
  
"You..." she gasped. Tears were running down her face because she was laughing so hard.  
  
I looked at her hesitantly. "Veronica....?" Why was she laughing?  
  
"I... you...." She clutched her stomach and continued to giggle like a madwoman.   
  
"You... me...?"  
  
"God, Hermione! You're... so.... So..." Veronica laughed some more.  
  
"Innocent..?"  
  
"FUNNY!! God, I actually made Miss British babble." She wiped her tears but all it took was one look at my confused face to set her off again.  
  
"I... wasn't babbling.." I said weakly.  
  
"Yes.." She gasped for breath. "You were. God, and you were what? Jilted? By some ass named Harry?"  
  
I stiffened. "I.. er.. Well.. yeah."  
  
"And what the hell does that have to do with you being sorry?"  
  
I began to see the humor in the situation and my mouth twitched. "Nothing, I guess."  
  
She grinned. "And you're sorry?"  
  
"Very."  
  
"Well that's all right then. I've had people say worse to me, Hermione. You're hardly the first person to have commented on my choice of profession."  
  
"I.." I paused. "Well, I've never said anything so rude to anyone before."  
  
"Except maybe Lavender and Pansy right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"God, where the hell do you British come up with these names? Hermione, Lavender, and shit, PANSY. I'd jump off a bridge if I was named Pansy."  
  
"I wish Pansy DID jump off a bridge." I muttered darkly, remembering all the times I had put up with the pugnacious girl. "I wish I could push HARRY off a bridge."  
  
Veronica leaned forward interestedly and placed her chin onto her fist. "Tell me about this Harry loser who jilted you. Did he leave you at the altar or something?"  
  
"Much worse."  
  
"What could be worse than getting abandoned in front of your friends and family?" Veronica asked with a frown, tucking her ebony hair behind her ear and staring at me.  
  
"How about being abandoned and having the whole wiz- I mean world knowing about it? Not only that, but Harry's sort of a big celebrity... so of course everyone is interested in what he does." I hoped Veronica hadn't noticed that I had started to say wizarding world because I was sure she'd find that curious. I had also hoped she wouldn't ask what kind of celebrity Harry was, but like I said, I have some bloody rotten luck.  
  
"What kind of celebrity is Harry? How come I've never heard of him? He's a singer or an actor or something?"  
  
"Umm.. well.. You Americans never hear about our British celebrities..." I know, I know, it was a weak excuse.  
  
"I... see. Well does he sing or act? I bet he acts huh? I mean only an actor would love drama so much that he would jilt his fiance and inform the entire world about it." Veronica patted my hand kindly. Unlike when Lavender did it, her patting my hand didn't upset me; instead it made me feel like maybe I wasn't alone.  
  
"Erm... he... acts...? And well he didn't inform the whole world.. exactly.." I hated lying but it didn't seem as if I had a choice. After all, it wasn't as if I could just tell her I was a witch and Harry was a wizard who had defeated an evil, dark wizard when he was just a baby. She'd have probably laughed in my face and then admitted me to an insane asylum or something.  
  
"He just got married to another woman a few days before our wedding and well it happened to make the... local newspaper.."  
  
"Really? Do you have a copy of the newspaper?"  
  
Yes, I did, in my ugly purse. But I couldn't show it to Veronica, after all, the pictures did MOVE.   
  
"Erm.. No."  
  
Her face fell. "Oh.. too bad. Well I'm sure this Harry bastard was a loser anyways."   
  
"You have no idea."  
  
Veronica grinned suddenly. "Lets dance Hermione."  
  
I sniffed. "I don't call THAT dancing." I looked pointedly at the grinding bodies.  
  
"That's because you're a prude."  
  
I gasped. "Excuse me?!"  
  
She laughed. "You heard me, Miss British. You Are A Prude."  
  
"I am not!"  
  
"You are too!"  
  
"Just because I don't feel the urge to rub my body parts all over someone else's privates, I'm a prude?" I asked outraged.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"I... You..."  
  
Veronica pouted. "Please Hermione! Just one song!"  
  
"Absolutely not."  
  
She stood up abruptly and looked down disdainfully at me. "Fine then. Stay here all by yourself and watch everyone else have all the fun. You may be content doing so but I'm not. I hope you have a good night, Miss British."  
  
I grabbed her hand in a panic as she began to stomp away. "You can't leave me here by myself, Veronica!"  
  
"Watch me."  
  
"You can't!"  
  
"I'm leaving, Hermione."  
  
"Fine! Okay! You win!" I stood up and took a deep breath. "I'll dance. One song only."  
  
She nodded and began to lead me to the dance floor.   
  
Merlin! What the bloody hell was I doing? I asked myself. I had absolutely no business being in a bar, much less dancing like a wanton. I didn't know how to dance! Well, at least not like that. I was going to make a complete and utter fool out of myself and Veronica would leave me in the middle of the dance floor in complete disgust.   
  
I began to imagine all manners of horrible and embarrassing things when I realized I was standing in the middle of the dance floor and people were stepping on my feet. Veronica was already swaying to the beat of the music.  
  
"Veronica!" I yelled to be heard over the loud music. "I don't.. I don't know how to dance!"  
  
"Just move with the beat!" She yelled back.  
  
I stood there, stone still, watching everyone else dancing.  
  
"HERMIONE!"  
  
My head snapped around and I saw Veronica with her hands on her hips watching me angrily.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
She might have rolled her eyes, it was hard to see in the dark, but she was clearly exasperated. "DANCE!"  
  
How?  
  
Before I came up with a clear and logical answer I began to feel Veronica slithering all over me.  
  
"Um. Veronica?"  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing?"  
  
She continued to move around me, "Trying to get you to dance!"  
  
"But I don't know how!!" I wailed.  
  
"MOVE WITH ME!"  
  
I moved around hesitantly, trying to keep pace with her, but her body was practically vibrating with the fast music.   
  
I began to shake my hips a little and tried to move sinuously like Veronica.  
  
"GOOD!" She flashed me a thumbs up.  
  
Encouraged, I began to sway and shake with the music a little more enthusiastically. And before I knew it, I was dancing as wildly as Veronica. True, I was making awful sure that I didn't touch anyone else, but it was as wild as I got.  
  
And I found out that it was fun. A little freeing in being able to dance how I liked without fear of censure.   
  
I was having so much fun, in fact, that instead of just dancing to one song, I danced to 3, and by the end of the third one, my body was undulating and moving of its own volition to the music.  
  
Veronica finally had to drag me off the dance floor and we collapsed on the bar.   
  
"Merlin! That was bloody fun!" I gasped at her.  
  
She laughed. "Merlin? What the hell is that?"  
  
"Um. Brit speak?"  
  
"I see.." She gave my shoulder a little shove. "So, isn't dancing fun?"  
  
"It's the best!"  
  
"Told you so."  
  
I grinned. "Shut up."  
  
"You know... In honor of your first time REALLY dancing, I'll buy you a drink."  
  
She waved the bartender, who was built like a Roman god, over and ordered us drinks.  
  
As he left to fill them, I flung my arms around Veronica's shoulders and hugged her impulsively.  
  
"I'm so glad you're a hooker!"  
  
She laughed. "Why is that?"  
  
"If I hadn't met you I probably would have gotten mugged and I would never have been dragged in here, much less dragged onto the dance floor. Because of you, I've learned something new about myself." I grabbed the shot glass in front of me and downed the contents in one swallow. I choked and began to cough.  
  
Veronica laughed as she patted me on the back. "Then I'm glad."  
  
My eyes were tearing because of the tequila but I still managed to smile at her. "Why are you a hooker anyway? I mean you seem smart enough."  
  
She frowned slightly and a look of sadness entered her eyes. "I... There are things you don't know about me, Hermione. I have my reasons. But I'm not going to stay a hooker for long. I only have a few more weeks of this, and then I'm moving out west."  
  
"Really?" My head was swimming slightly because of the alcohol. "That's so sweet."  
  
"Sweet?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
Veronica grinned. "You have low alcohol tolerance, don't you?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"How often do you drink?"  
  
I grinned. "I've drinked.. drinken.. drank... um... maybe 3 times? Most of the time its watered down alcohol stuff though.."  
  
She got off her stool and pulled me up. "It's time to leave now, Hermione."  
  
"What?" I protested. "I wanted to dance some more."  
  
Veronica began to pull me towards the door. "What hotel are you staying in?"  
  
"Um. I don't have a hotel."  
  
"How about you stay at the Holiday Inn?"  
  
"Mmk."  
  
She pushed open the door and we gulped in big breaths of the fresh night air.  
  
"Here are the directions to it."  
  
She sat on the hood of the car and began to recite them. "Go straight down this street. Turn left on Renowitz, drive for about a block and make another left. The Inn is right there."  
  
"Okay. I unlocked the car. I'm going west too."  
  
She looked at me surprised. "Really?"  
  
"Yes. Here's the phone number to my friend's house there. She lives in Los Angeles. Give me a call when you get there." I put a scrap of paper in her hand.  
  
She looked up and I was surprised to see tears in her eyes.  
  
"What's wrong, Veronica?"  
  
"You actually.." She cleared her throat. "You really want to be friends?"  
  
I cocked my head to the side and studied her. "I thought we already were.."  
  
"No.." She laughed slightly. "People like you don't become friends with people like me. At least not permanently."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
She shrugged. "I'm a hooker."  
  
I laughed and hugged her tightly. "I already told you that I'm glad you're a hooker."  
  
"But.."  
  
"I need a friend right now, Veronica. You've helped me to have so much fun tonight and discover more things about myself. I WANT to be you're friend. So, you'll call me, right?"  
  
Veronica sniffled. "I.. Okay."  
  
"Oh.." I dug around in my ugly purse and came out with a credit card. "Here." I shoved it into her lax hand. "It's prepaid. It has around 5 thousand on it. Use it to put all you're stuff together and come out west as soon as you can."  
  
She gaped at me. "I can't take that."  
  
"Of course you can." I smiled. "Just imagine. If you hadn't saved me from that little Johnny prat I would have probably lost my whole purse and I've a lot more money in it that 5 thousand. Think of it as a thank you gift."  
  
"Hermione.. I can't take it!"  
  
I grinned at her, "Veronica, I write books and I'm VERY rich. 5 thousand isn't that much to me." I took her hands into mine. "Besides, no one should have to sell themselves. I.." I paused. "I get the feeling you're running from something. I am too, so let me help out a fellow runaway."  
  
She smiled hesitantly. "Right. Okay. Thanks a lot, Hermione." She hugged me tightly. "Thanks so much."  
  
I got into my car and started it, "See you in a few weeks, Veronica."  
  
~*~  
  
That had been last night. Now here I was, driving on highway 51, on my way west. I had left Washington a few hours ago and was now driving into Virginia. I had decided not to take the route straight across America, but instead I would be driving through the Southern states.  
  
I had the radio on loud and was blithely singing along with every song that came on, even the ones that I didn't know.  
  
I stopped for lunch at a little rest stop that sold sandwiches. I had sat there for an hour, just eating and enjoying the scenery.  
  
When I was back on the road the sun was still up and shining.   
  
The weather was so great in September 2010. Still warm but not too hot, and the sun stayed out longer.   
  
I had had a great night last night, made a new friend, learned how to dance, and discovered new things about myself. I liked to dance, I didn't like tequila, and I have a lot of credit cards.  
  
I laughed slightly. Life was so great. I was actually starting to look forward to any new surprises.  
  
A new one popped up sooner than I expected. I had been driving through Virginia for a few hours after lunch when I saw him.  
  
He was too far ahead of me to see much, but I could tell that he was tall, tired, and very dirty.  
  
My generous feeling was still residing in me from yesterday so I decided I would stop and give him a lift to wherever he was going. I mean, where could the harm be in that?  
  
If he turned out to be a psycho, then, I could defend myself very well with my wand. And if he turned to be a lost person just looking for a lift, then I'd feel like a good Samaritan.   
  
I sped up and ignored that nagging feeling in the back of my head telling me to beware.  
  
~*~  
  
I was so bloody tired. I had been walking for days, angry, hungry, and lost. What would I do? Here I was, stuck in some godforsaken place, with no money, no wand, and no magic.  
  
I should have gotten into one of the cars that had been stopping, I told myself again for the hundredth time.  
  
Stupid of me, to have been too angry and prideful to accept a ride from some stupid muggle. So now here I was, walking on a long dusty highway of some sort. And there hadn't been a car in sight the entire day.  
  
The blue Porsche was almost on me before I realized it was there, it had driven up so silently. It came to a smooth halt next to me as I turned and studied it's driver.  
  
She was a short looking brunette. Her sunglasses obscured most of her face but what I could see was pleasant looking enough. Her mouth was in a wide smile and her nose looked small and pert. Her clothes, however, were another matter entirely. They were old and wrinkly looking, in very ugly colors, and seemed to be of a bad fit. She didn't seem too horrible for a muggle but she did have atrocious taste in clothing. I almost shuddered to see what she was wearing.  
  
"Hi." She said brightly. She extended her hand and leaned out of the car.  
  
"Hi." I took her hand and shook it quickly. My voice was gravelly and the road dust was clogging up my throat. I coughed and attempted to clear it.  
  
"Oh. I'm so sorry. I should have realized. I'll get you some water." She turned and began rummaging around in her hideous handbag. I looked at her in surprise as my mind placed her accent. She was British.  
  
"Here." She handed me the bottle and watched as I drank thirstily. "So.. you look like you could use some help."  
  
Although it pained me greatly to say it, I did. "I do need help."  
  
I sensed her surprise at the sound of my accent but she didn't say anything about it. "Where do you need a lift to?"  
  
"I.." Merlin! I hated seeming like a fool. "Where am I?"  
  
"Virginia.."  
  
"Where's Virginia?"  
  
She laughed. "You're joking, right?"  
  
I continued to stare at her seriously.   
  
"Oh. Um, you're in America. The United States of America."  
  
I almost gasped like a fish out of water. They brought me to the bloody United States?!   
  
Okay, I told myself. Think rationally. There was a wizarding town somewhere in New Orleans, Louisiana. I knew that because I had done business there before. I could go to that wizarding town and find a way to get back to London where I could contact the aurors, who could then find those bloody Death Eaters and return my magic to me.  
  
"Do you suppose you could give me a lift to New Orleans, Louisiana?" I asked in my most charming voice.  
  
She smiled uncertainly. "Um. Of course. I'm dropping by there anyway." She unlocked the door. "Get in."  
  
I walked around the car, opened the door, and sank into the soft leather seat.  
  
"Um. I didn't catch your name." She gave me a slightly suspicious look. "What is it?"  
  
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. "Draco. Draco Malfoy."  
  
I felt her jump and felt waves of shock rolling off her. I opened my eyes slightly and watched as she whipped off her overlarge sunglasses. She studied my face for a moment before she groaned as if she was in mortal pain.  
  
Why did she all of a sudden look so familiar?   
  
"Bloody fucking hell."  
  
**********  
  
THANK GOD! FINALLY! I'M DONE! THEY HAVE MET! YAYAYYAYA! I will get the next chapter up as soon as possible. REVIEW!!!! 


	5. Chapter 5

MUAHAHA.. that was mean cliff hanger.. oh well.. heres the next chapter! Enjoy!  
  
**********  
  
Why me? I wanted to bang my head on the steering wheel. Why did everything that could possibly be horrible happen to ME? Why did it ALWAYS have to be me? I opened my eyes to glare at Malfoy who was looking at me as if I had gone slightly crazy.   
  
Why did I have such bloody rotten luck that Harry just HAD to jilt me and I just HAD to flee to America where I just HAPPENED to be driving along the same highway that Malfoy would be walking on and I just had to be overcome by such a sense of generosity that I stopped the car and let him in!?  
  
What the bloody hell was wrong with me?  
  
"Since we're exchanging names, would you mind telling me yours?" Malfoy was looking down his abnormally large nose at me and I was overcome with the strongest urge to just boot him out of the car.  
  
I glared at him fiercely. The git didn't even have the intelligence to recognize me! True, I hadn't recognized him, but nobody would have ever thought to see a Malfoy covered in a few days worth of dirt!  
  
"Honestly Ferret, you'd think a Malfoy would have at least a little bit more intelligence." I sneered and waited for him to recognize me.  
  
He turned pale underneath his dirt and I watched with no little amount of satisfaction.  
  
His throat worked frantically. "You can't be...."  
  
I grinned wolfishly. "Unfortunately for us both, I am."  
  
"You can't possibly be..."  
  
"Trust me, I am."   
  
"MUDBLOOD!?"  
  
My mouth tightened as years of memories of him calling me exactly that battered my pounding skull.  
  
"Get out." I said coldly.   
  
He continued to sit there and stare at me in bewilderment.  
  
"I said, GET OUT!" My face was starting to flush in anger.  
  
He shook himself as if he were coming out of a trance, then had the nerve to look angry. "What the bloody hell are you doing in the United fucking States of America, Granger?" Malfoy demanded as if he actually had a right.  
  
"I COULD ASK THE SAME BLOODY THING OF YOU, MALFOY!" I yelled, completely overcome by anger.  
  
Malfoy's eyes narrowed suddenly, "Wait a minute... This doesn't have anything to do with Saint Potter does it?"  
  
I opened my mouth, then closed it. He couldn't know, could he? I mean he looked like he had been walking by the road for days, and Harry had only jilted me two days ago.  
  
"I read about you're disgusting engagement to him in the Prophet months ago, so what are you doing here?" He paused and mockingly looked around. "And with no Potter in tow?"  
  
Sometimes I swore that the only person who had intelligence that rivaled mine was Malfoy. Who else would be able to so quickly jump to the right conclusion? Here I was and here he was, without a scrap of indication as to why I was there and he was inches away from discovering that I had been jilted. I was becoming desperate for something to say to distract him.  
  
"As I don't see how it's any of you're bloody business, I think I shall refrain from telling you." I said curtly. "Now why are you here, Malfoy? I never thought I'd see the day when a Malfoy wanders around a highway like a peasant."  
  
I mentally patted myself on the shoulder as his jaw tightened. Mission accomplished.  
  
"It's none of you're business."  
  
I smirked at him. "It's entirely my business as you're sitting in MY car and dirtying MY leather."  
  
Malfoy had obviously lost quite a bit of control in the past few days as I could practically read what was going on in his head. He badly wanted to just get out and leave but couldn't because for some unfathomable reason he needed to get to New Orleans and I suspected I was the only way he was going to get there. Why? I still couldn't figure out, but the taste of power was delightful.  
  
"Granger, I..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
He struggled. "I..."  
  
I unsuccessfully fought the smirk off my face. "Yes, Malfoy?"  
  
"I.... Needyourhelp." He finished in a rush.  
  
I cupped a hand mockingly around my ear and leaned towards him slightly. "What was that you said, Malfoy? You slurred you're words together so quickly I hardly caught them."  
  
Yes, it was shameless of me, but I had hated him for 5 years and strongly disliked him for 2. I probably would have gone on hating him for the other two years but he had turned over a new leaf and came to the good side. He had still acted like an insufferable git, but at least I knew then that he wasn't evil. But despite his not being evil, he had made my life living hell in seventh year when we were both Heads, and now I was exacting payment. Yes, it was mean and petty but then again, I was developing a new Hermione, and apparently she enjoyed being mean and petty, so why should I have stopped?  
  
"Granger.." He growled. "Just take me to bloody New Orleans."  
  
"Merlin Malfoy! Do you never learn?" I shook my head sadly. "You are a pureblood. I am a Mudblood. I have the car. You do not. I have money, my wand, and my magic. You don't have money, you're wand, and if I'm guessing correctly, you don't have you're magic. Now." I put both my hands out, palm up as if I were weighing something. "Pureblood." I lifted my left hand ever so slightly. "Car, money, wand, and magic." For each thing I said I lifted my right hand. "See the difference?" I almost grinned at his furious expression. "That's right, Malfoy. I do not jump to do you're bidding. You, in fact, will most likely be jumping to do MY bidding."  
  
He looked somewhat surprised at my boldness until a crafty expression slithered over his pointy face. "Granger, you've got one thing wrong. I'm bigger and stronger than you are. They weigh a lot more than cars, magic, and wands." He said menacingly. Malfoy began to advance on me, clearly trying to intimidate me with his size and as horrible as it was to admit it was working if my heart rate was any indication.   
  
"Not only that. You are all alone on this big stretch of highway, and you've very stupidly allowed a dangerous man into your car." Malfoy continued to scoot closer and leaned over the gear stick until his face was a few scant inches from mine. "And trust ME, Granger. I'm very.. very.."  
  
His gray eyes flickered down to see my wand pressing into his nether regions. When they flicked back up they met my extremely amused brown ones.  
  
"You're very... dangerous?" I guessed innocently. I cocked my head to the side. "What was that spell again for castrating men?"  
  
Malfoy jumped back as if I had burned him. His eyes met mine and for the littlest second there was the barest hint of confusion in them.  
  
"You're different, Granger."  
  
Ahhh.. those words exploded fireworks of happiness in me. "Good."  
  
I sat back in my seat and folded my hands on my lap. I continued to smile at him and he continued to glare death at me.  
  
"Well?" He finally demanded.  
  
I was holding the power and I was having quite a bit of fun. "Yes?"  
  
I could see Malfoy's internal struggle and my grin threatened to split my face when his desperation won over his too large pride.   
  
"Are you going to drive me to New Orleans or what?" He muttered not looking at me.  
  
"I don't know.." I smirked. "Are you going to look me in the eye and ask me politely or not?"  
  
His head whipped around and his eyes threatened to drill holes into my skull.  
  
"Will you drive me to New Orleans?" He ground out.  
  
"Hmm.. Did I hear a please..?"  
  
Malfoy looked as if he were going to explode. "Will you PLEASE drive me to New Orleans?"  
  
I sat back and thought about it.  
  
This was the same Malfoy who had tormented me for seven years of my life and who had taken great pleasure in driving me crazy that last year. Now here he was dirty, hungry, and desperate. I was being eaten alive with curiosity as to what had happened to him but it was apparent that he wasn't going to say anything. It occurred to me that New Orleans was quite a few days away and I'd have plenty of time to worm the truth out of him.  
  
Then I shook myself. Good God this was Draco MALFOY! Hermione, what in the name of Merlin are you contemplating? I asked myself. I couldn't keep him with me for a few days! He'd drive me completely batty within a hour!  
  
I snuck a furtive glance at him from the corners of my eyes. He was leaning his head back against the headrest with his eyes closed and he looked utterly exhausted. I supposed that he had been walking for a few days. I mean, considering the amount of dirt he was wearing, the fact that he had been as thirsty as a camel, and then his utter desperation for my help. True, he didn't really show all that desperation, but during all the time we had been talking, there had been this sort of bleak look in his eyes.   
  
So, as much as I wished for a cold heart, I couldn't do it. I just couldn't leave him there to walk along the highway until he either died of starvation, or a ruthless serial killer picked him up.  
  
I wanted to pound my head against the steering wheel some more. Why me?  
  
"Fine. I'll take you." I glanced over and saw that I had gotten absolutely no reaction from the man.  
  
"Malfoy? Did you hear me? I'll take you to New Orleans." I said somewhat louder. I moved to shake him when I realized it. He had fallen asleep and the heart that I swore I was going to harden, softened a little bit more.  
  
I sighed and started the car again. This was going to be a long long drive.  
  
~*~  
  
I was being hung by my wrists in some dank underground place. I lifted my head slightly as I heard the door open and close.  
  
"Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy.." The guttural voice said.  
  
I managed to lift my head fractionally higher as the man stepped into the dim light.  
  
"Rodolphus."  
  
He approached me and tilted my face up higher with a single bony finger.  
  
"The Malfoys have fallen very far because of you."  
  
"Ask me if I care."  
  
"I realize now that you are the Malfoy but I supposed you can understand if I lack any respect for you, despite you're name." Rodolphus Lestrange dropped my head and walked back into the dark. I strained my eyes and searched for him, but lack of oxygen was turning my vision fuzzy.  
  
"You see, I remember a time when the Malfoys were the highest of pureblood families. You're father, the right hand man of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I used to envy Lucius, even desire to kill him so that I could take his place. Those were the grand times for people like us."  
  
I managed to lift my head and snort derisively. "You're pathetic, Rodolphus. A pathetic psycho who can no longer function without a master to tell him how to whimper and beg."  
  
He came suddenly from my right side and wrapped a pale hand around my throat.   
  
"You're a blood-traitor, Malfoy! You brought the destruction of my master and for that you will pay!" He let go suddenly and as I gasped for breath a whip suddenly appeared in his hands.  
  
"You will pay." He began to whip me on my chest and each hit stung like barbed wire until suddenly, it wasn't a whip anymore but the fluttering of silk. I opened my eyes and saw a brown hair siren wearing a multitude of silk scarves fluttering in a magical wind.  
  
She stood on a stool directly in front of me and began to slither up my chest to kiss, lick, and nibble everywhere. As my head drooped in pleasure she shoved at my shoulder.  
  
"Wake up, Malfoy!"  
  
I smiled. "I'm awake."  
  
She kept shoving at my shoulder. "Wake up! Wake up, Malfoy!"  
  
I jolted awake and found myself staring into the face of the brown haired siren who gasped and scrambled back in her seat. Her seat?  
  
It had all been a dream, I realized. I glanced sleepily at the woman who was still looking at me warily. The brown haired siren? She was real and she was from my dreams?  
  
Then I realized, Merlin! That's Hermione Granger! Memories of sitting in her car and realizing who she was battered my tired brain. Not a siren, just an intolerable know it all.  
  
"Granger." I croaked. "Where the bloody hell am I?"  
  
"Some place between Carmen, Virginia and New Orleans, Louisiana." She replied.  
  
"You're taking me to New Orleans?"  
  
"Yes." She said tight-lipped. I almost grinned at her aggravated expression.  
  
"Why did we stop?" I glanced around and noticed we were parked on the side of the highway. The stars were shining exceptionally bright, quite unlike they usually did in London.  
  
For the first time her expression softened slightly. "You were dreaming and thrashing around. It seemed like... Like a bad dream.."  
  
I frowned, "It was."  
  
"Oh."  
  
We sat in silence in the middle of the road for a while. I began to think of my reaction to finding Granger here in America.  
  
I snuck a glance at her from the corner of my eye. She really did look the same. I hadn't seen her in.. five years..? Yes, that was right, five years. I had read about her engagement to Potter in the Prophet a few months ago and I remembered snorting about it. I glanced at her again. What was she doing driving a Porsche in America without her fiancé?  
  
"Why do you keep looking at me?"  
  
I restrained the urge to jolt at her question and instead I pasted an impressive sneer onto my face.  
  
"What makes you think I was looking at you, Granger?"  
  
She sighed and turned her head to face me. "Because I can always feel the questioning eyes of idiots."  
  
I turned away to hide my surprise at her response. She had always been able to come back with responses to my scathing remarks, but never like this. I remembered back in the days at Hogwarts she would seem to come alive only when I was around to torture her. Around Potter and Weasley she'd always seem to lose a sort of spark and was mostly subservient to what they wanted. It hadn't really come as a surprise to me when I read about her engagement to Potter. After all, I had always figured she'd become the obedient wife to either him or Weasley.  
  
I finally turned back after my musings and met her angry eyes. When she saw I had no response she attacked again.  
  
"What.. Don't tell me the high and mighty Malfoy has nothing to say?"  
  
"I'm simply trying to keep myself from getting kicked out of you're car, Granger." I said in a monotone voice.  
  
Her eyes widened at my non-aggressive statement. "Oh."  
  
I let the uncomfortable silence drag on a little longer. "How long will it take to get to New Orleans?"  
  
She shrugged. "I'm not sure. Another day, maybe. Or two."  
  
I tried my hardest not to pale at that. Two entire days spent in a confining area with just Granger for company? I was going to go completely mad.  
  
"If you stay away from me I'll stay away from you, and that should keep both of us from going completely bonkers." She said, seemingly reading my mind.  
  
"Right. Of course, Granger. So are you going to start driving or what?"  
  
Granger looked as if she were going to say something but shut her mouth abruptly and turned the engine back on. "We'll drive for another hour, find an Inn and someplace to eat dinner." She muttered looking straight ahead.  
  
I winced. "Granger.." She refused to look at me and I forged ahead determinedly. "I haven't got any money on me.."  
  
Her shoulders relaxed slightly. "Yes, I know. I'll pay for you, I like to lend a helping hand."  
  
I stiffened. "I don't NEED you're charity, Mudblood. I'll pay you back when I get back to London." I remembered all those times 'friends' of my father had wanted to lend me a helping hand after his 'unfortunate' death, when really all they wanted was to find a way to latch onto the Malfoy fortune without me knowing.  
  
Granger shot an angry look at me. "Fine. Whatever you say, Ferret."  
  
~*~  
  
I was beginning to get nervous. It had been an hour of driving after Malfoy's nightmare, and after our initial conversations, he didn't seem to be inclined to wanting to talk.  
  
Oh, right. I had said that I would leave him alone if he left me alone, so now I guess we were leaving each other alone.  
  
I resisted the urge to peek at him from the corner of my right eye.  
  
I sighed. I didn't know how I was going to do this. Stay in a confined area with Draco bloody Malfoy for 2 days and not go completely crazy, hah! Impossible.  
  
But then I thought about his strange nightmare. At least I thought it had been a nightmare. He had been sleeping for a few hours when all of a sudden he had moaned in pain. Then he began to thrash around and groan as if trying to bite back screams. But right when I had pulled the car over he began to groan again but this time in.... arousal? Since when were nightmares arousing?  
  
I had scooted over and poked him in the shoulder to wake him up. It had taken quite a few pokes before he did, but when he did his eyes shot open so suddenly they had startled me. But really, it hadn't been his sudden waking that surprised me, but the look in his gray eyes. There had been anger and... something there... something else...  
  
I shook my head, whatever it had been it must have been weird because right when his eyes cleared and he looked fully alert, a look of disappointment had pervaded his expression.  
  
Disappointment because I was the one who found him?  
  
Probably. My hands tightened convulsively on the wheel. I wish I hadn't found him. I wish I didn't feel this overwhelming need to help him. After all, what had Draco Malfoy ever done for me?  
  
So what if he had turned spy for us in 6th year because Merlin knows why? He still took every opportunity he had to torture me and poke fun at the poor Mudblood who didn't have a boyfriend and no boy was interested in. Poor Granger who had been ditched by the people she had loved most in the world. Stupid muggle born who had no social life and was so pathetic she didn't even want one.  
  
I reached out and abruptly turned on the music. I didn't want to sink into my thoughts and become depressed all over.   
  
I glared at Malfoy who was eyeing the radio. I had been progressing so well before he had to come along!  
  
"What the hell is that, Granger?"  
  
I seethed silently and ignored him. Not only had he made me backtrack, but when I had offered to help him out and he had gotten all snotty on me and slapped me away! Merlin! Why had I gotten so stupid as to think he'd actually appreciate my help?  
  
"Granger?"  
  
After all, what kind of self respecting Malfoy would ever actually want the help of a no good, dirty Mudblood? He was just using me until he got to where ever he got and of course I don't even deserve an explanation as to why he was walking around covered in dirt even though I am the one who is driving him!   
  
I began to work myself into quite a snit.   
  
And the one time that I try to be nice to him he goes and acts like the complete git he is and has to make me realize how stupid I've been acting! All I said was that I liked to help people and he has to curl his lip at me and say in his meanest voice that he doesn't NEED charity because he's Draco fucking Malfoy!  
  
"GRANGER?" The slightly panicked voice penetrated my rampaging thoughts and I finally turned to glare at Malfoy.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
He shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. "Could you drive a bit quicker?"  
  
I tried to burn him into non-existence with my powerfully angry gaze. "Why?"  
  
Malfoy glanced back and then shrugged again. "Just an idea.."  
  
I slowed down just to upset him, then darted a quick glance behind me.  
  
I gasped. There was a black robed man chasing the car on a broomstick. He raised his wand as I whipped back around and accelerated.  
  
"That's - That's Rodolphus Lestrange!" I shouted as I heard an explosion behind the car. I imagined he had fired a curse at us but had just barely missed.  
  
Malfoy shrugged that extremely maddening shrug again. "Yes, that is. Excellent observation, Granger." He flipped me a sarcastic thumbs up.  
  
I paused from flooring the accelerator to glare at Malfoy. "I HATE YOU!"  
  
AND HE SHRUGGED AGAIN! "I return the sentiment. Now drive faster."  
  
**********  
  
MUAHAHAHHAHAHAH!!! That's a cliff hanger right?! Right?! Man, I must be a sadist because I REALLY enjoy doing that to you guys..   
  
I'm going to keep the rant short because I have some VERY IMPORTANT NEWS!  
  
I..... have..... started a new Hr/D fanfic....! *Gets hit by rock thrown from frustrated reader*  
  
It's not my fault, I swear! It's my friend Nian's fault! It's all her fault! HER FAULT!! *whines like a baby*  
  
I was just discussing my various fanfics with my friends, none of which write, and she just had to ask me to write an hr/d one with them still at Hogwarts, so of course an idea popped into my head and... *Looks around worriedly* Hermione started to have conversations with Blaise Zabini in my head!  
  
And I swear I'm not going crazy either. Writers understand what I'm talking about... right? Heh..  
  
Anywho, it was called Just Another Switching Places Fanfic, but that seemed too long and the title started to get on my nerves so.. I changed the title and it is now called.... The Switcheroo. Hm.. I think that one is starting to get on my nerves too.. anywho here's the summary:  
  
Hermione Granger dislikes Slytherins and Blaise Zabini dislikes Gryffindors. What happens when a Polyjuice Potion goes wrong and they switch bodies? (overused plot i know) Will they be able to learn that each house has its strengths and weakness? HrD B?- Read to find out!  
  
I swear that if you guys read and review that story I will try my VERY HARDEST to not lag on this one, and I'll still make this my priority! Which it really shouldn't be cuz I should finish up my other story, but I'm so lazy.. Oh, that would be another story for another day.   
  
Okay, I'm done running my mouth.. or in this case.. my fingers.. heh.. right.. okay done..  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!! 


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, so here's the story. I stalled and procrastinated the usual time before starting to update, but then when I was like one-third of the way through the chapter my stupid, old computer decided to finally catch a virus and die. So it was really slow and didn't want to do anything and kept freezing. My father got this weird idea of

I bore down on the pedal harder and pretended it was his face that I was stomping on.

Drive faster?

I'd drive fast, all right. So fast that the skin on his face would be stretched to the point of grotesqueness.

Not that it wasn't grotesque already.

"He's catching up."

I wanted to sputter in outrage at his tone of complete indifference, but decided that would only make me look stupid. I settled for turning red and trying to exude anger.

I wasn't really sure it was working, after all, I had never _exuded_ anger before.

"If you'd like to see the sun dawn tomorrow on your pathetic life, Granger, I'd stop going about as fast as a turtle."

Apparently just exuding anger wasn't working.

"I'm already going ninety." I ground out, my eyes glued straight ahead.

"Then go a hundred." He snapped.

I shot a quick glance into the rearview mirror and almost blanched. Lestrange really was gaining on us, and worst, he was aiming his wand and muttering words that couldn't possibly mean good things.

"Malfoy, I can't-"

"Are you scared, Granger?" He interrupted. "Aren't you enough of a Gryffindor to break a few speeding laws to save your own hide?"

I grimaced and unknowingly went up to ninety-five.

"Can't you take that enormous stick out of your arse long enough to take a risk? Especially when that risk could save your life and another person's?"

His taunting voice rang in my ears. Oh, I'd take that stick out of my ass. I'd take it out and beat him senseless with it.

I unconsciously went up to a hundred. My hands gripped the wheel until my knuckles went white.

"Granger, can't you just-"

"Shut up, Malfoy. Just shut up."

He gave an exaggerated sigh. "He's aiming his wand, Granger."

I glanced at the rearview mirror just in time to see Lestrange shout a word and flick his wand. Guessing his intentions, I swerved left and had Malfoy banging his head on the side of the car.

He gave a surprised grunt of pain.

My hands were sweating but I wasn't so nervous that I couldn't take pleasure from giving Malfoy physical pain.

"Dammit, Granger!"

I grinned and kept my eyes straight ahead.

"Next time give a fucking warning!"

I concentrated on the road and tried to look as if it were very difficult for me to get the car back under control.

"Granger." He said in a warning voice. "Next time you better.."

I shot a glance at the rearview mirror, so that I wouldn't have to look at Malfoy, just in time to see Lestrange give a particularly malevolent wave of his wand.

Praying that I was right, I swerved left again, and once again, Malfoy's head banged hard against the window.

Malfoy cursed long and loudly.

Unable to resist I said in my blandest voice, "You know, Malfoy, I just don't think I could bend that way."

"I swear to Merlin, Granger, if you do that one more bloody time without warning me I'll…"

I tuned him out and glanced down at the speedometer. To my everlasting surprise, I found that I was going 105 miles per hour, I was having fun, and I was actually not to worried that a deranged ex-death eater was after me. Well after Malfoy, but since sodding Malfoy was with me, the deranged ex-death eater was technically after me too.

"How long do you suppose he'll keep this up?" I asked gradually, when Malfoy finally stopped ranting.

"I suppose until we reach the next town. He wouldn't want to be seen by muggles, so I suppose he'll let off." He responded sullenly.

I heaved a great sigh of relief. The next town was in sight, and although I was having fun evading death attacks from Lestrange, I couldn't always second guess where he'd aim next. So far I was lucky, but I might not be lucky for much longer.

I glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see Lestrange looking around uneasily. Although we hadn't yet reached the town, muggles could be outside the town limits camping or doing other things like that.

Lestrange shot one last hateful look at the car and swerved off into the shadows. I began to ease on the accelerator.

"You know, Malfoy, you owe me one hell of an explanation." I muttered.

"How did he find me so quickly?" He said under his breath in such a way that I was sure he hadn't meant for me to hear.

I frowned. "_Why_ is he looking for you in the first place?"

Malfoy's head whipped around and his stormy gray eyes met mine. "Why the bloody hell do you think, Granger?"

The anger in his voice surprised me so I kept my eyes straight ahead as we cruised into the town.

Why indeed was Lestrange looking for Malfoy?

Was he the reason that Malfoy was stranded on the highway in the middle of nowhere?

And most important of all, why did I have the feeling that Malfoy didn't have a dollop of magic in him?

"You can explain the hell happened to you over dinner." I muttered, still not looking at him. He didn't respond, but exuded anger.

Ohhhh.. So that's how you do that.

I kept my eyes peeled for a diner or something like that and finally found one. In an unnerving silence I parked the car. We both sat in silence for a while, me wondering what had happened to him and what he was doing there with me, and him thinking about.. Whatever it is that cruel-way-too-smart blonde guys think about. Probably sex.

I finally sighed. I supposed it was time to call a truce since Malfoy was apparently in a life threatening situation, and I couldn't just callously leave him to face it by himself. It really was too bad that I had all the Gryffindor instincts except for bravery in the face of some situations.

"Look, Malfoy, I don't particularly like you and I know that you don't like me. I don't relish being stuck with you until we reach New Orleans, but since I can't just leave you on the side of the road, I suppose we'll both have to deal. So can we please just have a truce?"

He turned and studied me with eyes that were strangely thoughtful.

"Fine." Malfoy eventually murmured. "It can last until after dinner. Arguing ruins my appetite."

I pushed open my door bad temperedly at his completely selfish statement. "Thank you ever so much for considering my feelings too." I muttered with a heavy sarcastic tone.

"Uh uh uh, Granger. That doesn't seem like such a peaceful statement, and we're on a truce now." Malfoy smirked at me.

"Actually, I'm changing the terms on the truce." I glared at him over the hood of the car. "The truce doesn't start until after you explain to me what the bloody hell happened to you and why Lestrange is after you."

That effectively wiped the smirk off his face.

"Fine." Malfoy slammed the door and began stalking towards the diner.

I closed my own door more gently and sauntered after him.

At least I wouldn't be having a boring dinner by myself.

Although, wasn't that why I came to America in the first place? To be by myself?

I shrugged and trudged to the diner. After all, it wasn't as if I really had a choice. And to my surprise, I saw Malfoy there, courteously holding the door open.

I gave him a suspicious look as I walked past him inside.

Malfoy being polite? I wondered what it was that he wanted.

He followed me as I made my way to a booth and sat down across from me, with a strangely earnest expression on his face before I picked up my menu and blocked it out. We had been studying our respective menus for about five minutes in complete silence before I finally gave up.

"Okay, what do you want?" I asked as I laid down my menu.

He looked at my blankly. "What?"

"I know you want something."

"You do?"

I nodded decisively. "Yes, I do."

"Okay, then what is it that I want?" Malfoy folded his hands on top of his menu and gazed at me serenely.

"What?" I frowned at him.

"You think I want something. Tell me what it is that you think I want."

"I don't think you want something. I KNOW you do."

His smirk slipped through. "And how would you know that I want something?"

I resisted the urge to throw my arms up. "You held open the door and WAITED for me. You were being _polite_."

"And that's bad?"

I folded my arms and tilted my chin up. "When YOU'RE being polite, then yeah, its bad."

He scratched his head puzzledly. "I thought being on a truce meant being polite.."

This time I didn't resist and threw my arms up in exasperation. "We're NOT on a truce!"

"We aren't?"

"NO!"

"Why?"

"I changed the terms! We're not on a truce until you explain what the bloody hell is going on!"

"I wasn't listening to your blabber." And then Malfoy did the most horrible thing. He smiled charmingly at me and to my complete revulsion I realized that maybe his charming smile wasn't so bad.

I almost puked at this realization.

No no no.. Hermione you don't think that. You're just suffering from hunger pains.. That's all it is.. Hunger pains..

I cleared my throat loudly but before I could come up with a suitable reply, a waitress sauntered up.

"Well, what can I get ya?" She glanced disinteresting at me.

I began to place my order but was interrupted by Malfoy.

"I'll have a cup of tea, the mashed potatoes with turkey gravy, the cornbread, and some of the roasted veggies. I'll also have a slice of the kidney pie. Oh and add some extra chicken fillets."

The waitress wrote down his order and read it back. "So it'll be the mashed potatoes, the cornbread, veggies, kidney pie, chicken fillets.. That's a lotta food mister.." She trailed off as she glanced at Malfoy, and her lipsticked mouth fairly fell open.

I swear I saw drool starting to gather in the waitress's mouth.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He shot her that charming smile that I didn't think was all that good looking. Not that it was bad either. Ah! No, hunger pains!

"Yes, well I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm quite hungry." I said curtly, trying to distract myself from Malfoy's un-charming charming smile.

The waitress tore her slavering gaze from Malfoy and looked me up and down. I knew what she was seeing and I swore once again that the first chance I got I was buying new clothes.

"Well what can I get ya, honey?" The waitress bestowed me with a condescending smile.

"I'll have what he had but without the kidney pie and the chicken fillets." I said through gritted teeth.

She wrote down my order with a flourish and winked at Draco before sauntering off, swinging her hips in what I thought was a excessive manner.

"Granger, you're not jealous, are you?" Malfoy murmured, his smile full blown.

"No! No." I repeated in a calmer voice. "I just didn't like the way she was looking at me."

He smirked at me. "You do know that what she saw was-"

"I know what she saw." I snapped, interrupting him. "And I don't see why she thought you were attractive, after all, you're covered in dirt and who knows what else!"

Malfoy glanced down at himself in dismay, as if just remembering that he was filthy. "Well I guess that just proves my sexiness shines through anything."

I snorted. "Of course it does. Although I think it's really your gruesomeness that shines through ." I covered my eyes with my hands as if I was seeing too much sunlight. "And right now it's blinding me."

He pouted and I tried not to notice his full bottom lip.

AHHHH! HUNGER PAINS!

"Stop pouting!" I said almost desperately. "You look like a spoiled little boy, although you do look like that normally, so I guess there isn't really that big of a difference."

Malfoy stopped and frowned abruptly. "What about our truce? You aren't being very nice."

"You haven't explained how you happened to be in the middle of a highway in Virginia covered in dirt yet." I answered mulishly.

He sighed. "All right all right."

I looked at him expectantly.

"You know, of course, that towards the end of the war, I turned spy."

A flash of expression that looked like revulsion crossed his face. I cocked my head to the side.

I wondered why he felt disgusted that he had turned spy. After all, he had helped the good side, the right side, and doing so, he couldn't have been all that evil, despite what Ron and Harry swore. I almost snorted at that thought. Harry had thoroughly proven himself to not be a good person, and Ron, who had taken his side, well I wasn't sure what to think of him. However, before I couldn't think too deeply about that, I was drawn out of my reverie by Malfoy's voice.

"I managed to pass along quite a bit of inside death eater information, that really assisted the aurors and Dumbledore." He continued bitterly. "I took my mark, knowing I would betray what it stood for, betray the people I had grown up with, betray everything I had grown up believing."

"Malfoy.." I murmured. His face looked haunted, and I wondered if there was more to it than what he was telling me. He had to have known he had done the right thing, but at that second, he didn't look like he did.

"Don't think that Granger. Don't think what I know you're thinking." He pierced me with his gaze. "I didn't do it for all the good reasons you think I did. I did them for purely selfish reasons that you'll never know about."

I held my silence and waited for him to go on.

"I.." He took a deep breath. "I did everything that I was told to do. Nobody knew of my betrayal until after Voldemort was destroyed. I was promised things that.. That never happened. Inevitably, it was my passed on information that led Potter to destroy Voldemort. After that final battle, I was told, of course, that I was safe. It was then revealed what a good guy I was, how I passed along death eater information." He snorted and studied his hands. "I was told that Saint Potter was hunting renegade death eaters, so of course I had nothing to worry about."

I almost snorted myself at the caustic nick name Malfoy had given Harry. Saint Potter indeed, if Saints were lying bastards with hidden horns and tail, then Harry was really Saint Potter.

"It has been, of course, a few years since the last battle, and only a few death eaters still running around. I was told repeatedly that I wasn't a target, not that it mattered. I wouldn't let a few renegade death eaters keep me from doing what I normally do."

"Which is gambling, sleeping with countless women, and making high end business deals." I interjected trying to lighten his somber mood. I didn't know why I wanted to do it, but I just felt like I had too. I suppose that I am a rather compassionate person, and I could very obviously see that Draco was deeply disturbed.

"Of course." He answered completely serious. "But besides that, I did live a fairly normal life, despite the occasional howlers I received from families of people killed by death eaters."

"You're not serious."

Malfoy frowned. "You can't possibly be that innocent and noble, Granger."

I frowned back. "What do you mean?"

"Hate bleeds, Granger. It festers and bleeds until it finally explodes in more hate. Those families will never ever accept me because I'm the son of a death eater and even though they know I helped the good side, they'll always think I did it for some evil and devious reason. They'll always hate me because they have no other choice, they won't know what else to do with their bitterness."

"Nobody can be that stupid and narrow minded."

He grinned wryly. "You're engaged to someone that narrow minded and stupid. You're other best friend is the same."

I almost blurted out that I was most definitely not engaged to Harry stupid Potter before I remembered that I didn't want Malfoy to know that.

"Er. Yeah, I suppose Pot- I mean Harry is like that." I paused. "And Ron too, I guess. I mean we didn't know that you had turned spy during the war, but afterwards, when it was revealed, they were sure you had done it right before the end in order to save your own hide."

"I did do it to save my own hide."

"I know."

"Then what do you mean?" He grinned and I finally felt his solemn mood lift. "Don't tell me that you, Hermione Granger, defended me from them."

"Of course I didn't." I answered primly. "After all, you are Draco Malfoy and you made it your own personal mission to make sure I was as miserable as possible."

"You can thank me later, Granger."

I laughed. "Thank you? Why I think I could happily throttle you."

He laughed but before he could come up with a suitably cutting reply, the food came with the same sauntering waitress.

"Here ya go, Mister Malfoy." She leered at him slightly. "If you need anything, _anything_ at all, you just give me a call." She set his food down lightly in front of him.

I stiffened. "Excuse me-"

She plunked my food down in front of me, causing some of the gravy to splash, just barely missing me. "Here."

She strolled away, once again shaking her hips in what she probably thought was a provocative manner.

"I think you've got green eyes."

I frowned and looked up to see Malfoy eyeing me with amusement.

"Excuse me?"

He shook his head. "Nevermind."

I shrugged and decided to put the rude waitress out of my mind.

"You still haven't told me how you ended up on the side of a highway." I reminded him before I dug into my food.

He sighed. "You're like a dog with a bone, Granger."

I waved my fork at him. "No explanation, no truce."

Okay well, this time I haven't really left it at a cliffhanger. I hope you guys are happy with this chapter. Usually I'd make it go on longer, but my sister is kicking me off the computer and I don't know when I'll have another chance to finish this, so here it is! Thanks for waiting so long and not complaining! I really don't deserve you readers.

Here's a little poem for all you guys.

Roses are red

Violets are blue

You've read this chapter

So now go review!


	7. Chapter 7

So I got a few complaints about the last chapter, and I'm very sorry that it wasn't as satisfying as usual. I'll try harder on this chapter and I really don't have that many excuses about the last chapter except my sister kicked me off the computer before I could finish that chapter and I really didn't want you guys to wait for a whole long time for it so I just went ahead and posted it. And heres the next chapter.

* * *

Just a little note, I really want to say thank you to all the reviewers. I've been getting so much support for this story and you have no idea how much it really helps, so THANKS!

"You make hard deals." He smiled at me as he scooped up some mashed potatoes. "However, since you ARE taking me to New Orleans, I suppose I could cooperate."

"For once." I muttered.

He ignored this and went on. "Well I already told you a bit. As I was saying, I had gone to Diagon Alley to close up some transactions and pick up a few things for my kneazle."

"You have a kneazle?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Would you like me to expand on that or would you rather I go on with the story."

I gave a disgruntled grunt, which he took for assent.

"I also had some business in Knockturn Alley, and no I will not be telling you anything about that."

I glowered at him.

"While I was in The Creator's Crackpot, I was told to go around to the back to pick up my purchases, which really isn't that strange, so stop looking at me as if I was dense, since many things that are bought in Knockturn Alley are only for the discreet."

Well I thought him going around to the back of a store that didn't sound like it had a good reputation was an extremely stupid thing for him to do, but it had already been done, so there wasn't any point for me to lecture him. Besides, my tendency to lecture was one of the things I wanted to change about myself, so I refrained from giving into the temptation.

"Amazingly enough, Lestrange managed to use some stealth spells that somehow got past my guard and I suppose he conked me over the head with something blunt since I still have a bit of a headache. It's either that or I'm getting a headache from too much Granger exposure."

I laughed sourly. "Ha ha ha. You are so amazingly funny, Malfoy. You just crack me up."

He smirked. "I do try." And then he went back to eating.

I stared at him. "That's it? That's all you're going to tell me?"

"Why would you think I have anything else to tell?" Malfoy turned too innocent eyes on me.

"Well for one, you're in America. Would you care to tell me how you came to be here?"

He shrugged. "I suppose Lestrange thought it would be a good idea to bring me to America."

I frowned at him. "Why haven't you got your wand?"

"Well obviously, Lestrange took away my wand."

I paused and took out my trump card. "Why would he take away your wand when you can't even use it?

His eyes pierced mine and his expression suddenly turned fierce. "Why wouldn't I be able to use my wand?"

I lowered my eyes. I had thought that he knew. "You haven't got any magic in you." I brought my eyes slowly to his.

Malfoy reared back as if I had just struck him. "Why are you saying that? Why wouldn't I have magic? How would you know?"

"You feel as if your half empty don't you? And you keep feeling like you've forgotten something, but you just can't remember what it is. That's what you weren't telling me."

He glanced down at his hands as if they would give him an answer that he would want to say. "Yes."

"You haven't any magic, Malfoy. Those are- they're symptoms, I suppose you can say."

"How would you know?" He asked urgently.

"A charm that backfired a year ago. I had this idea for a charm that would show a person's aura. Something like, I don't know, the vibrations they give off. It was a job commissioned by the Ministry." I shrugged. "Anyway, I was trying to create this charm that would change the color around a person depending on the person's personality. The only person who could see this aura, however, would be the person who cast the charm, and the charm is unnoticed by the person it is cast on. But before I could release the charm to the public, I had to do some tests. It passed all the other tests I did on it, except for the last one, which was the most important test of all, the human compatibility. I had thought that I designed the charm perfectly, but I suppose I left in a flaw which I've never been able to find. So I tested this charm on myself like I do with all other charms and it well- backfired."

I was blushing horribly by now. I hated making mistakes and the only thing I hated more than making them, was admitting them. And here I was, admitting it to the one person who I could barely even stand to be in the same room with. Which I suppose wasn't really as true as it used to be since Malfoy and I had been in the diner at the same table and we had yet to try to murder each other. Yet.

He raised an eyebrow as if he knew why I was blushing. Fortunately, he decided to refrain from being a complete prat and didn't comment on it. "Well, what happened?"

I shrugged and tried to pretend it didn't matter. "Well I said the incantation, did the wand motion, and all of a sudden there was a really loud bang and I got knocked unconscious by the spell. When I came to, Ron was kneeling over me and there was this blinding halo of silver light surrounding him. I soon realized it wasn't his aura since Harry and all the Weasleys had the same silver light surrounding them, which wouldn't have been possible if it WAS his aura. I figured out that it was his magic."

Malfoy smirked at me. "So then what did you do?"

"I wore sunglasses the few times I let Harry or Ron visit me and I stayed away from Diagon Alley completely. It took me two months to develop a permanent counter-charm. I still see the silver light but it isn't blinding. I see it on and off, really, it isn't always there. It usually can be seen with someone who has really powerful magical abilities, but for normal or average wizards or witches, I won't see it and even with the powerful ones it flashes on and off."

Malfoy stared at me gravely. "So you're saying.."

"I haven't seen ANY flashes of silver around you Malfoy. After the first hour when we met on the road, I assumed you weren't that powerful of a wizard but I still expected to see a little flash. Most people do, but after 3 hours of being with you and not even one tiny little flash, I started to become suspicious. And with your symptoms then.. Well I really don't think you have a dollop of magic left."

He was paling considerably and to my surprise I felt some flutterings of pity for him.

"How do you know the symptoms?" He asked.

"It was in sixth year when we were in History of Magic. Professor Binns mentioned something about Jared the Jokester who had lost his magic. I did a little research on it. He had been struck by lightening and about a week later he started to feel empty and like he lost something. He wrote it all down, along with his suspicions in a personal diary."

"I remember that." Malfoy muttered. "But didn't his diary end a month later in complete gibberish because he.."

Any of the remaining color in his cheeks fled.

"Because he went mad." I whispered.

"But how can something like THAT happen to me?" Malfoy practically yelled.

"There are, of course, dark spells and charms that a dark wizard can use to strip and bind the powers of another wizard or witch." I said in my professional lecture voice. I really did not want to have this become complicated on me. I didn't want to get involved with Malfoy and his problems. I had plenty of my own and there was no reason for me to try and solve Malfoy's dilemma. I could and would try my damned hardest to remain unaffected by this entire fiasco. I wanted so badly to be impartial, but a sinking feeling in my stomach whispered it was already to late for that.

"I know about those. Remember, I was Lucius Malfoy's son." He snapped.

"I know."

"But all incantations for stripping magic and binding it from a person is difficult and you have to have something that is very valuable to the person. Lestrange lost a lot of power after the war and what thing of mine could he possibly have? You're wrong, Granger."

Dread was building in me, but I had to tell him my theory. "He might have something, Malfoy."

He glared at me. "Oh right. Well tell me you're theory, oh wise Granger. You can never be wrong, after all, and if you say I have no magic, then far be it for me to say that I do. Why saying something that contradicts you would be sacrilege and now I guess I'll just have to be sacrificed to the nearest cannibalistic God in America."

I tried not to get angry at him, after all he WAS going through a traumatic and very painful experience, but Malfoy always knew which buttons to push.

"Fine. I won't say anything then." I glared at him.

But he would just not let me back down.

He continued to taunt me. "No no no, oh wise one. You must tell me what you were going to say or else I might remain ignorant and magic less for the rest of my life. You are always right so of course I'll listen to whatever you have to say."

"You might have thought he has your mother, you complete ignoramus." I snapped. "Everyone knows how close you and your mother are. A complete fool would know after seeing the two of you together and Lestrange may be a weak wizard but he's no fool."

I regretted my words immediately after. Malfoy looked stricken and furious, and for the first time in my life, I actually feared what he could do to me.

"You. Are. Wrong." He ground out. "My mother is in Malfoy Manor completely safe and you will need a brain transplant."

I hoped that he was right, but I wouldn't have put it past Lestrange to kidnap Malfoy's mother.

I rummaged around in my handbag and pulled out my cell phone. I held it out to him and looked beseechingly at him.

"I honestly hope you're right, Malfoy. But you need to check to see if she's safe and if she is, then you need to warn her."

He looked at my outstretched hand as if it were slimy and dirty.

I laid it on the table in front of him.

"Malfoy, I'm assuming you have phones in Malfoy Manor due to your muggle businesses, so just call and make sure she's all right."

He hesitantly picked it up and dialed in the number. I listened as it rang and strained to hear the conversation.

"Malfoy Manor, may I ask who is speaking?"

"Bean, this is Master Malfoy, put my mother on the phone."

The house elf gasped.

"Oh Master Malfoy sir!" his voice got noticeably squeakier. "Oh sir sir a TERRIBLE thing has happened! Terrible!"

Malfoy looked grim. "Bean, calm down. Tell me what has happened. Where is my mother?"

"Oh sir that is what terrible thing has happened! Nobody can find Master Malfoy's mother anyplace! She has gone! It is so terrible! There is no note and all furniture in Master Malfoy's mother's sitting room was destroyed! Terrible! Like there was a great big fight! Nobody knows where Master Malfoy's mother was. She is gone! Disappeared! Terrible sir! So terrible!"

Malfoy was bloodless and pale, however he spoke fiercely into the phone. "Bean, tell me when she disappeared."

"Oh oh I isn't so sure, sir! I is so distraught! Maybe four days ago? Maybe five! I isn't too sure. Master Malfoy's mother don't go out of her room too much when Master Malfoy is gone, so maybe sir's mother has been gone longer!"

"Okay Bean, thank you for telling me. I'm sure she'll come back soon. Don't any of you guys worry. I'll be back as soon as possible. You know how to run the Manor, so you go on as usual. I'll call back as soon as I can."

"Where can Bean reach sir?"

Malfoy looked questioningly at me. I rattled off the number which he repeated into the phone.

"I'm leaving you in charge, Bean, so when I get back, I want everything to be okay."

"Yes, Master Malfoy. Everything is fine. Come back to the Manor soon sir."

"I will. Goodbye."

Malfoy took a deep breath and hung up.

"I'm sorry." I covered his hand with mine and for that short time, I forgot that he was my enemy.

Malfoy looked down at our hands. "He has her. The bastard took my mother."

I looked away from his anguished face. "I'm sorry."

"You were right. Just like the old days. Always right." His hand spasmed violently underneath mine.

"I didn't want to be." I looked up and met the coldest pair of eyes I had ever seen before. "What are you going to do?"

"Do?" he repeated. "What can I do? I have no magic, no money, no nothing. I'm more useless than a muggle child."

I chewed on my bottom lip, another bad habit I had. "I can help you, if you want.." I squeezed his icy-cold hand.

Malfoy laughed acidly. "You help me? You can hardly stand me. You'd rather see me rot in hell then help me."

His self-pitying attitude made me angry. I had never been able to stand the people who bemoaned their problems but did nothing to change it. I snatched my hand back. Malfoy looked momentarily shocked at the sudden action but I didn't care as I was too busy glaring at him.

"Not help?" I spat. "What the bloody hell do you think I've been doing? I'm not _you_. I actually enjoy helping people with their problems, another disgusting _Gryffindoric _quality. I'm not the kind of person who'd kick an injured dog. If you'd only be able to get past your blasted pride then you'd be thanking me for the offer instead of insulting me."

Malfoy looked so angry for a second I thought he'd hex me if he had a wand, but then suddenly his face crumpled in and he looked despairingly at me.

"What do you believe I can possibly do, Granger? I have NOTHING. And according to your calculations, I'll be quite mad in another month and a half, if I'm lucky."

I clenched my teeth and counted silently to ten in Mermish. When I felt I had sufficiently calmed myself I allowed myself to glare at Malfoy slightly.

"Aww poor little Malfoy." I sneered. "Now that he has no money and no magic he's going to roll over and let himself DIE."

He looked at me as if seeing an alien life-form. I ignored him and went on.

"Has it ever occurred to you that some of the Muggles you think so inferior survive with no money and no magic? And look at yourself. You've just admitted that you can't survive without those two things yet I know muggles can. I think that that is sufficient enough to prove just who is more superior. All those years of so much useless prattle."

"How dare you say those ridiculous things to me. You are just a filthy little Mudblood. I am a --"

"Malfoy?" I smiled sweetly. "Why don't you start acting like one? You know, arrogant, conceited, and as if nothing can get in the way of what you want to do. Right now you're acting like a dog rolling onto its back and gleefully offering its stomach to a coyote."

"You--"

"Come _on_, Malfoy. Snap out of it. Have I made you adequately angry enough yet or do I need to go on insulting you?"

I hid a smile as he clenched his teeth.

"If you manage to make me any angrier, Granger, I just might try to hex you with your own wand." retorted Malfoy.

"You haven't got any magic." I reminded him politely.

"I know, but if you don't shut up soon, I'll try it anyway."

I grinned. "Right."

Malfoy groaned and buried his dirty blonde head in his hands. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"_YOU_ can't believe you're doing this?" I laughed. "I can't believe _I'm_ doing this. If someone had told me 5 years ago that I'd willingly help Draco bloody Malfoy solve his problems, I would have admitted them to St. Mungo's."

He glanced up and glared at me. "Enough of this. What are we going to do?"

I checked my watch and was shocked at the late time. It was eleven o' clock and I finally realized how tired I was.

"First," I said briskly, "We're going to find a motel to check into since I'm dead tired. In the morning we'll continue to New Orleans since it is one of the biggest wizarding towns in America. We can discuss what to do on the way there."

Malfoy nodded and began to finish up the food on his plate. "Fine." He waved his fork in the general direction of my mashed potatoes. "Are you going to eat the rest of that?"

I pushed the plate closer to him. "You go ahead and have it, pig. Merlin, you eat as much as Har…" I coughed. "Erm, Ron."

Malfoy's head snapped back up. "Do not compare me to Weasel. We have NOTHING in common. I'd jump off the Astronomy Tower before I did anything the same as _him._"

"Does this mean that if I tell you that both of you have surprisingly a lot in common, then as soon as you got your magic back, you'd make my dreams come true and kill yourself?"

He grunted and finished up my mashed potatoes. "Shut it, Granger."

I grinned. "Right."

When he FINALLY finished eating I waved the flirtatious waitress over who then handed me the check and gave Malfoy what she must have thought was a enticing look. I wanted to laugh at her attempts at seduction but decided to refrain from doing so since I supposed that Malfoy was deriving some amusement from it.

Since when I cared about humoring Malfoy, I didn't know.

"Something amuses you?" asked the object of my thoughts, as I signed the receipt for my credit card.

I shrugged. "What makes you think something is amusing me?"

"The corner of your mouth was twitching.'

I gave an exasperated sigh as I stood up. "Do you notice _everything?_"

He smirked. "Practically, yes."

"It must be all those years spent as a spy."

I noticed as I said it, his jaw clenched and a shaded look came over his eyes.

"Of course." He answered simply.

I dearly wanted an explanation for his reaction but decided not to press my luck with him. He had already revealed quite a bit about himself, something I was sure he never did often.

I must have been going crazy.

Since when did I care about what went on in Draco Malfoy's head?

No, I didn't care. I didn't. Of course I didn't.

"Granger?"

With a start I realized we had reached the car and I had been standing in front of my door motionless.

"What?" I snapped, annoyed at my train of thoughts.

"The truce is over now, correct?" asked Malfoy somewhat sharply.

I realized with a disturbing pang that I was reluctant to let it end. However, for self-preservation, from what I didn't know, I knew that I had to put an end to this dangerous truce.

"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

He nodded. "Good, then I can say this. Open the bloody door you simple-minded Mudblood."

My hands clenched. How easily he switched from charming to nasty. Well I could do the same thing.

"Say please."

He glared at me. I glared right back.

"Please."

I gave a satisfied smirk. How nice it was to remind him who held the power in this situation.

I unlocked the doors and slipped inside. Before Malfoy could even finish closing his door I gunned the engine and shot out of the parking lot.

"Bloody hell, Granger! Slow your suicidal arse down!" He shouted.

"I'm tired. I want to find a motel or hotel. You look on your side, I'll look on mine."

After about five minutes of driving around Malfoy spotted one.

"Stop."

I stepped on the brakes suddenly, causing the car to jerk to a stop. Malfoy shot forward like a bullet since he had forgotten to put on his seat belt.

"Merlin, Granger, I am going to --"

"If you hadn't always been so disdainful of all things muggle then you would have known to put on your seat belt. _A useless muggle contraption for useless people_. Isn't that what you called it in sixth year when Dumbledore made you take Muggle Studies?"

I could tell that Malfoy was only seconds away from leaping across the seat and strangling me, so for my own good I quickly got out of the car and began walking towards the motel. I heard, rather than saw him follow me.

We both arrived at the door at the same time. Instead of waiting for him to open the door for me, which doubted he would do, I pulled open the door, stepped through, and allowed it to close in his face. Malfoy growled and shoved it open before it slammed into his overlarge nose.

I walked blithely up to the reception area where a little greasy-haired man was looking at the two of us speculatively. The man ran his eyes down my body, taking in my shabby clothes and shoes, before looking me in the eye and turning his nose up. I silently boiled with anger and waited for Malfoy to step up beside me. He got no better reception from the man than I did due to his dirt stained skin and clothes. Little could the man know that Malfoy and I had arrived at his seedy motel in a Porsche.

"And what can I do for you two?" The man's nasal voice grated on my ears almost as much as his condescending tone did.

"We need rooming tonight." Responded Malfoy shortly.

I glared at him for trying to take control.

"Ahh.. I see.. And will you two be sleeping.. Together?" asked the man nastily.

"No," I answered before Malfoy could finish sputtering, "we want two separate rooms."

"Two?"

I glared at him and wondered if American wizarding laws condoned the transfiguration of nasty little motel managers into toads. "Yes."

The greasy-haired man smirked. "I'm afraid it isn't possible tonight."

"What? Why?" I nearly shrieked.

"Well every year here in Carmen we have a little town party of a sorts to honor the heroes that fought in the Civil War. It's an old tradition, but every year we still get an amazing amount of tourists. The party is a few days from now so I'm booked full. I'm afraid all I have left is a queen bed in a little room."

I glared at him for a second before turning to look at Malfoy, who currently had a horrified look pasted on his face.

"I'm not sleeping with you, Granger."

"Oh I wouldn't _dream_ of asking." I turned back to the man. "I suppose we'll just go elsewhere."

"Yes, that's probably a good idea.. Although.." he trailed off.

"Although what?" asked Malfoy suspiciously.

"Although the next town over is about six hours from here."

"There aren't any other motels or hotels here?" I asked in dismay.

"Nope." he said cheerfully. "Carmen's a small town and has never needed another motel, much less a hotel."

Despite the fact that I was a Gryffindor and Gryffindors were notorious for their stubbornness, I knew when to admit defeat.

"Fine." I sighed. "I suppose we'll just take --"

"No. No bloody way, Granger. I am not sleeping in the same room as you." Malfoy interrupted.

I whirled on him. "Fine." I spat. "You can bloody well walk to New Orleans tonight. I'm sleeping here because I am dead tired and it doesn't really matter to me whether or not you're here too. But please, can you just not complain for one night?"

He glared at me for a second before giving a sarcastic little bow. "Lead the way then, Granger."

I nodded stiffly before turning back around and handing my credit card to the manager. He slid it through and gave me a key.

"Fourth floor all the way down the hall. Nice and quiet." The little, greasy-haired manager leered at me, obviously still believing that Malfoy and I were there for an assignation despite all the evidence that pointed otherwise.

"Fine." I turned and began walking toward the elevator. As Malfoy and I stepped into it I stepped as far back as I could and studied him.

As I did so, I immediately began to regret my sharpness with him earlier. Because now that I could take the time to study him, I could see that his show of confidence and energy had been just that, a show. He was obviously tired and probably hadn't had a good nights sleep in days. He also had a look of bleak despair, no doubt because of his mother's kidnapping.

"What are you staring at?" He barked.

I shrugged tiredly. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Yes."

Malfoy gave me an unfathomable look. "For what?"

"For being mean, earlier. For shouting at you. I usually don't."

He looked shocked at my apology, and I guessed he hadn't gotten many in his life.

"You don't have to be sorry."

I gave him a weak smile. "Okay."

"It won't make me like you any better so you don't have to kiss up."

I sighed and didn't respond. At least I had tried.

The elevator doors opened and we both walked out, then down the hall to 15F. I slid the key into the door and unlocked it. It swung open and Malfoy and I both gaped into the room.

It was smaller than a closet and quite ugly. It had room for just one dumpy looking queen sized bed. And no room for anything else.

* * *

Okay! I'm done with this chapter. And I have sufficiently thickened the plot, I believe. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter more than the last one! Until next time!

PS. Thank you to my reviewer Kristen36 for giving me this idea about having them share a room together. I do believe I'll use this tactic more than once. Maybe. Depends on how this turns out. It should be very interesting.

**REMEMBER TO REVIEW! REVIEWS GIVE ME INSPIRATION TO WRITE… ;)**

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	8. Chapter 8

I laid in bed with my eyes wide open.

Close your eyes, Hermione, I told myself. Close them!

My eyes stayed open.

Dammit, cooperate!

My eyes remained glaring open.

I sighed quietly and shifted. Then I shifted again. Then I shifted one more time. I sighed and prepared to shift again.

"Granger if you don't stop moving around I'm going to kick you very hard." grumbled Malfoy.

I made a face at the ceiling.

It wasn't my fault I couldn't sleep. It was Malfoy's. It's always Malfoy's fault.

I thought about his shocked expression when we had opened the door and he had gotten his first glimpse of the bed and smirked slightly. While I had been shocked that there was only one bed, I had quickly recovered since I recalled the greasy hotel manager man telling me how there was only one bed when he had described the room. Malfoy, however, had stood in the doorway gaping in shock while I had sauntered into the room and dropped my bag on the floor, a blasé expression pasted on my face.

"Granger, there's only one bed." he had said in a stunned voice.

I had sighed and turned back around, my hands firmly planted on my hips.

"That matters.. Why?" I had asked grumpily.

Malfoy had opened his mouth then closed it, then had opened it again.

"I'm not sleeping with you."

For some reason his words had stirred something in my stomach. The mashed potatoes had probably gone bad, I had thought. However, despite the stirring, I still felt enough indignation at his assumption and the disgust in his voice.

"As if you're going to." I glared at him. "You're sleeping on the floor."

He recovered enough to glare back at me, volt for volt.

"Malfoys do not sleep on floors."

His pompous statement had surprised a laugh out of me.

"Look at you, Malfoy. You're covered in dirt, you're clothes are wrinkled beyond repair, and I don't even want to mention the hair."

At my words his hands had gone immediately to his head.

I shook my head. "You're so annoyingly vain, Malfoy."

"And you're so annoyingly boring. We can't change who we are."

His statement had stung. We could change who we are, I had thought. Wasn't that why I had gone on this trip in the first place? To change?

I had stared at him for a few seconds after his stinging comment. He had continued to glare at me. Finally, I had sighed in defeat.

"Fine, you can sleep on the bed with me, I'm too tired to argue with you." Immediately after I spoke, I had taken my wand out of my pocket and had waved it briskly at the pillows. They had arranged themselves in an impenetrate able wall in the middle of bed, effectively splitting it into two halves.

"You sleep on the right side and I'll sleep on the left."

Malfoy had stared at the bed for a second before opening his mouth. However, before he could speak, I had cut him off.

"Don't start, Malfoy." I had snapped impatiently. "This is as good as it gets."

He had smirked slightly. "I wasn't going to complain."

"Sure you weren't." I had retorted over my shoulder, already making my way towards the door which I presumed led to the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower, then I'm going to sleep. Don't move the pillows."

I had heard him snort derisively behind me.

So now here I was, lying in an uncomfortable position, waiting for Malfoy to fall asleep so I could move again.

Why was I still awake despite how tired I was?

Because after I had finished my shower, I had walked out of the closet-sized bathroom toweling my hair dry while Malfoy walked into the room.

About ten minutes later while I had laid in bed, with the lights turned off and sheets pulled up to my chin, the door to the bathroom had opened slowly as steam curled out in seductive little tendrils.

Malfoy had stood in the doorway, a slip of a towel wrapped around his waist, and his naked torso shining from steam induced sweat.

I had nearly swallowed my tongue before I had managed to snap my eyes shut. My horrified eyes, of course. Just because Malfoy's defined and muscled chest was etched on the inside of my eyelids didn't mean anything. It was Malfoy's chest, so automatically it was awful. Awful despite the fact that his torso was even nicer than Harry's. That it looked long and rangy and just like a swimmer's build. That it had a slight line of hair beginning from his navel and trailing down into his.. No, Hermione! Don't think about it!

"Granger, you weren't staring were you?" Malfoy had asked. I could practically hear him smirk.

"Of course not." I had said through clenched teeth.

"Of course."

"Just put your clothes on and get into bed." I had glared in his general direction.

"Why Granger, I didn't know you were so eager." he had murmured right before I had heard him snap off the lights.

"Go. To. Bloody. Hell." I had ground out.

Malfoy had begun to take shuffling steps to the bed, careful not to stumble in the complete dark of the room. Seconds later, I had felt him sit on the bed. Without stopping to put on clothes. Right after that, I had heard the unmistakable sound of a coarse towel sliding over skin, then a slightly wet plop. The bed had shifted a bit as Malfoy had laid down.

It was then that I realized it. He was laying down in the bed. Naked. Malfoy was in the same bed as I was, and he was stark naked. Malfoy. Naked.

My eye's had popped open and I had shot up into a sitting position.

"Put on your clothes, Malfoy!" I had hissed.

I could see the slight outline of his body against the sheets and once again I was assailed with images of his naked upper body. Good Merlin, I was going mad.

"I'm not putting on my clothes, Granger, they're filthy." he had replied calmly.

I closed my eyes again, despite how it was too dark to see more than just an outline of his body. I was taking no chances.

"I'm not sleeping on the same bed with you, if you're naked!" I had exclaimed, a hint of panic that I couldn't control creeping into my voice.

"Then sleep on the floor."

"Malfoy!"

"Did you know, Granger," he began in a pleasant voice, "that you're prim little white nightgown is practically see through with that slight hint of moonlight shining through it. That nightgown is practically worn through."

I had gasped and thrown myself back on the bed, allowing the pillows that split us to hide me. I was so glad he couldn't see my furious blush.

"Don't worry, Granger. I didn't see anything but an outline."

I had remained silent.

"Well then, now that that is settled. I'll be going to sleep. Naked. Don't have sweet dreams, Granger."

And he had rolled onto his side and to all appearances gone to sleep.

And that was why I was laying on my side in an uncomfortable position, and absolutely unable to sleep. I could not sleep because Draco Malfoy, my sworn enemy, was sleeping next to me in his birthday suit. The prat. It wasn't that I was interested, because I definitely was not interested in his naked body, it was just that the idea of him being naked and in the same bed as me revolted my Gryffindoric sensibilities. Yes, that was exactly what it was.

What would Ron and Harry- No, I definitely am not going to finish that question. I don't care what they would say. They were complete prats too.

I will sleep. I will close my eyes and drop into a deep sleep without dreams.

A thought occurred to me and I broke out into a cold sweat.

What if while I slept he-

No, the pillows were very effective barriers. They would keep him on his side and keep me on my side.

I WILL SLEEP.

My eyes were still open.

Why was life so unfair to me?

I do a good Samaritan act and fate throws me a naked Malfoy.

It just wasn't fair.

"You're still awake aren't you, Granger?"

I jolted at the sound of his amused voice.

"Gee, how can you possibly tell?" I asked in a tone as sarcastic as I could manage.

"Well for one you're breathing is too erratic for sleep. Plus you keep shifting around as if you've got spikes stuck on you're backside."

"Well I'd be much more comfortable if you'd just put on your clothes."

I had a feeling he was smirking at me.

"Does my naked body disturb you that much?" asked Malfoy silkily.

"Yes." I snapped. "The nausea is about to overwhelm me which means I'll have to rush to the bathroom to puke." I paused and added, "And in my rush, I'll probably trip and break my neck. The blame will lie solely on you and you'll have to get your magic back by yourself, which basically means you'll be nuts in a month. I hope you have a room settled at Mungo's." I finished nastily.

He was silent for a second.

"Well, I see when you're nervous you tend to babble, Granger." he murmured in an amused voice that infuriated me.

"I am NOT babbling."

"If you say so."

"I hate you, Malfoy." I muttered.

"Mmm.. Music to my ears."

He was smirking. I know he was!

"I'm going to sleep."

"If you can." said Malfoy in a taunting voice.

I refused to respond.

He sighed contentedly.

"Good night, Granger."

And after another hour of restless tossing and turning, I finally did fall asleep. However, the next morning, I woke up to a nightmare.

The light was shining directly into my eyes. Something brushed against my cheek and I batted it away impatiently. I wasn't ready to wake up, and it felt as if I had just dropped asleep.

I rolled onto my side, then restlessly, I rolled back onto my back. The fuzziness in my mind began to clear away and memory rushed in to fill the newly cleared space.

My eyes popped open and I shot straight up into a sitting position, only to collide with a loud crack against someone else's head. Draco Malfoy's head.

I rubbed my forehead furiously and glared at him. Apparently, I had knocked him pretty hard in the nose since he seemed a little dazed and in a lot of pain. Served him right.

"What the bloody hell were you doing?" I growled, uncomfortably aware of my bad morning breath and husky voice.

"I watyin toake emup." His muttering was unintelligible due to the fact that he had both hands clapped over his nose and partly over his mouth. Malfoy glared bloody murder at me over his hands.

I glared right back at him.

"You didn't move the pillows did you?" I asked suspiciously, looking down. I saw that the pillows were still arranged in the wall, but it was then I spotted his hand holding my wand on top of them.

"And why do you have my wand?"

Malfoy gave one last furious rub to his nose and lowered his hands cautiously. Carefully, he scrunched it slowly, then relaxed it just as slowly. Finally, he brought his eyes up to meet mine, but unfortunately, my eyes were no longer on his face.

Of their own volition, they had wandered slowly down his face, pausing slightly at his chin where shadow was slowly growing, then downwards more to the seductive arch in his neck, then down further to his milky pale skin and broad shoulders, then to my absolute horror, then went even further down, gazing at his defined pectoral muscles lightly sprinkled with hair, and the dark, pink spots of his areolas, and then my eyes gulped up the tasty sight of his rippling abdomen muscles that just made me want to reach out a hand and..

"Um.. Granger.. Before you look down any further, you're going to have to pay a fee." Malfoy's maliciously gleeful voice interrupted the suicidal trek of my eyes.

Mortified, I tore them away from his body and stared determinedly at a point just over his right shoulder. I could feel blood rush into my face, and I just knew that my face had to be redder than a Weasley's hair.

"Gee, Granger, I didn't know you'd be so interested in my.." he paused and was no doubt wearing his patented smirk, "umm.. Shall we say.. Physique?"

I gritted my teeth and said nothing. I was determined to just let him have his fun teasing me and then I would just be a bear to him for the rest of the day. He deserved it, after all, he was making me crazy. Only a truly insane Gryffindor would be entranced by Malfoys.. Physique. I used to be a nice sane person until I came across him on the side of that road. Oh I rue the day I felt humanitarian.

"So.. Potter obviously doesn't look as good as I do, since you were practically salivating.. Tut tut, What would Weasel say?" murmured Malfoy.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I just couldn't sit here and let him have his fun with me. I couldn't.

"Look you," I gritted and forced his name out, "Har- Harry looks much better than you. I was just staring because I couldn't believe you could be so sadly lacking."

I grinned triumphantly at my clever and cutting remark, suitable for any Gryffindor.

However, instead of narrowing his eyes and getting angry like I had intended, Malfoy nodded sagely and simply said, "Of course."

I looked at him in puzzlement. "Of course what?"

He ignored my question. "So, what is up with you and Potter anyway?"

I resisted the urge to wince and instead asked as nonchalantly as possible, "What makes you think that there's something up with me and.. And him."

Malfoy shrugged and eyed me curiously. "Well for one thing, I've been with you almost an entire day and you've yet to contact him. For another, you seem to have a problem saying Potter's name."

"I do not!"

"Prove it."

"I.." I tried, I really tried to utter the Worm's name, but I just couldn't. So as a last resort I did a very un-Gryffindor thing, I retreated.

"I don't have to prove anything to you." I threw off the covers and clambered angrily out of the bed. However, doing so made me realize that by looking down I would see his.. Well.. I didn't want to, so I snorted derisively, grabbed my overnight bag, and locked myself in the bathroom.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom much later, the first sight to greet my eyes was Malfoy wrapped in the bed sheet and looking out the window. I took a step towards him then stopped abruptly.

Malfoy's face looked nostalgic and unbearably.. Sad. However, it wasn't those emotions stopping me from approaching him. It was the anger and veneer of hatred that was radiating off of him in thick waves that kept me away. I wondered what he was seeing. I wondered even more what he was remembering.

Finally, unable to approach him but also unable to retreat, I cleared my throat loudly. Malfoy didn't jolt, but slowly turned towards me and the sheer enraged look in his eyes startled me, until he quickly and successfully suppressed it.

I wondered once again what he was thinking of.

"Staring again, Granger?"

"Kiss arse, Malfoy."

"You first."

I sighed tiredly and averted my undisciplined eyes.

"Why aren't you wearing you're damn clothes?" I asked exasperatedly.

"I will as soon as you clean them for me."

I stifled a scream of frustration.

"Then give me my damn wand!" I muttered still not looking at him.

"Glad to." he chuckled.

I turned, expecting him to throw it to me, however, since when does Malfoy ever do what I expect?

When I turned I practically bumped into him he was standing so unnecessarily close to me.

I gasped and scrambled back, the sight of his muscled and unblemished chest had been directly in front of my eyes, something that made my heart beat faster and my palms sweat.

Wait..

I gasped in horror as the truth crashed into my head like an anvil dropped from fifty feet above me. Malfoy gave me a strange look but I hardly notice, horrified as I was.

I thought Malfoy was.. Was attractive.

It hadn't been indigestion I had been feeling. And I wasn't getting sick either.

This was.. Awful. Worse than awful. It was even worse than terrible. It was so horrifying there wasn't even a word to describe it.

I suddenly felt dizzy and needed to sit down badly. I stumbled to the bed and collapsed on it, not even noticing Malfoy's puzzled look, I was so shocked with the unwanted revelation.

Did it matter that I thought he was attractive?

Of course it did, it changed _everything_.

No, no it couldn't. I wouldn't let it. God dammit, I was Hermione Granger and no spoiled pretty faced rich boy was going to phase me, not even if he had the best upper body in the entire-

No, nope, definitely not going to continue that line of thinking.

"Uh, Granger.."

Malfoy's puzzled voice interrupted my dangerous train of thought but it did nothing to soothe me. I looked up at him only to see his bare chest _again._

"You look rather peaky."

"Oh gee, I wonder why." I snarled, not in any mood to put up with his smarminess. I was sure he was going to follow that statement with something insulting because that's the way Malfoy was made.

"Why _are_ you suddenly looking so peaky?" he asked in a perfectly polite voice.

I wanted to gape at him, but I was still angry at myself and him for making me realize that he was-

No, I refuse to say it. Or think it.

"None of your goddamned business." I looked away and glared at a point over his right shoulder.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shrug disinterestedly.

"Fine, but will you please hurry and clean my clothes so we can get the hell out of this cheap motel?"

I ignored him and thought about my realization instead.

Did my thinking Malfoy was attractive important?

No, I couldn't let it. Besides, just because he might have been somewhat attractive didn't mean anything. I was not a shallow person, there was more to people then just looks, and let's face it, Malfoy had nothing else to recommend him. His last name was Malfoy after all.

Another reason why I didn't give two beans about his being attractive was because I just got out of a relationship that was rather traumatic, and I didn't need to go rushing into another one. And I knew for sure, that anything to do with Malfoy would be difficult and exasperating, not something I was looking for on this trip.

Not that Malfoy would ever be interested in me anyway.

Did that matter to me?

No, of course I didn't care whether or not Malfoy would ever be attracted to me. I didn't want him to be. I didn't need him to be.

My mouth straightened into a grim, determined line. Just because I thought Malfoy had the potential of being attractive didn't mean anything. He was still a spoiled, pampered, and bad-tempered man who I could never stand for days on end.

But why didn't I think of him as my mortal enemy anymore?

I chewed on my lower lip while I contemplated this.

Hmm..

Well of course I couldn't think of him like that. The poor man had no magic and his mother had been kidnapped. Even Ron wouldn't think of Malfoy as a mortal enemy if he was in my shoes. He probably wouldn't think Malfoy was the tiniest bit attractive, but, well Ron was a guy. A rather stupid and insensitive one too.

Malfoy cleared his throat loudly and that's when I realized I had probably just been sitting on the bed for a few minutes thinking.

"If you're done contemplating you're ugly manicure, Granger, would you please clean my clothes that way I could wear them and you could stop staring at my impressive chest." sneered Malfoy.

I smiled good naturedly at him now that I realized his being a bit attractive didn't mean a thing to me.

Malfoy looked startled at my sudden change of mood.

"If you'd just give me my wand, I could do it. And I wasn't staring." I stood up and brushed imaginary specks of dirt off my out of style pants.

I looked up to find Malfoy sort of gaping at me. By sort of, I mean that he was gaping at me but in a way that told me he'd rather not be, if that makes any sense.

He shook his head and seemed to blink out of it. "Here." he said and unceremoniously shoved my wand into my hand.

I shrugged. Let Malfoy have problems, I had just solved mine.

I turned and waved my wand in a negligent motion over his clothes which had been laid on the bed. "_Scourgify._"

Immediately the wrinkles smoothed themselves out, loose threads fell back in place, and stains shrank then disappeared. What was left lying on the bed were clean and simple black trousers as well as a white, linen shirt. I had not noticed Malfoy's clothes before and was somewhat surprised at his simple yet elegant attire.

Malfoy immediately leaned forward and scooped up his clothes. He turned and looked at me, for a second seeming as if he were going to thank me, but instead, he nodded curtly and went to the bathroom. This didn't surprise me much since I hadn't been expecting any thanks from him.

A few minutes later, Malfoy emerged from the bathroom fully clothed, but this didn't seem to stop me from staring. He looked all the more regal with his clothes on despite the fact they were hardly elegant. My eyes traveled down his form then back up to meet his amused eyes. I coughed in embarrassment and looked away.

"You'll do." I muttered.

Malfoy paused then brushed past me and opened the door. He swept his hands towards me in a mocking gesture. "Ladies first."

I sniffed haughtily and breezed past him, then made my way down the hall to the elevator, determined not to look back at him. To my surprise the oily manager from last night hurried from behind his counter and approached me as soon as the doors opened.

"Ms. Granger, I hope you had a nice night." he said wheezily, eyeing my ugly purse.

I shifted away from him and put my purse on the arm opposite of him.

"It was lovely. I especially loved hearing the rats skitter around on the floor." I said with a straight face, delighted that I had come up with something so utterly rude and sarcastic.

Unfortunately, it was lost on the dim manager who only nodded eagerly and opened the entrance doors for me.

I paused and searched in my bags for the keys to the car.

"Like the car, do you?" I heard Malfoy say over my head.

"Oh yes." the manager's voice was even more oily than last night. "Very nice Porsche."

Oh. So that was why the stinky man was being so polite and nice. He had obviously seen the porch, and since I had a sneaking sensation that we had been the only ones to be staying in the motel, he had come to the conclusion that the car belonged to Malfoy and me. Or well, to me.

I finally located the keys so I turned and gave the boorish man a frosty stare.

"Thank you so much for your wonderful service." I said as sarcastically as possible, hoping that this time it would penetrate his thick skull.

It did, and the man looked at me in confusion, then at Malfoy as if looking for an explanation.

I opened my mouth to give the man a scathing answer to his silent question, but Malfoy beat me to the punch.

"We had such a good time, in fact, that we won't be coming back. Ever." he said with a pleasant smile.

Malfoy then presumptuously put his hand on the small of my back and pushed me slightly down the steps and to the car. I looked back and saw that the manager looked extremely confused at Malfoy's paradoxical statement. Against my will, my lips twitched but I managed to hold the grin in.

"What are you staring at?" I muttered at Malfoy, who was just sitting in the passenger seat and looking at me with a strange expression on his face.

"You're.. Different."

"I believe you mentioned that already."

Malfoy shrugged then looked at me with shrewd eyes. "Why?"

I quickly tore my gaze from him and gunned the accelerator. I drove out of the lot quickly and made my way towards the road.

"Why aren't you answering me?"

I thought for a second and didn't answer again, but I could feel his eyes boring holes into me.

"Do these miraculous changes have anything to do with Potter?" asked Malfoy.

Merlin, I hated the fact that he was actually in possession of a functioning brain. It made it so much harder to deal with him.

"It isn't any of your business." I finally snapped when I could no longer stand the feeling of being stared at.

"Then I suppose I'll stop asking."

I allowed myself to relax, but obviously it was too soon.

"For now."

I stifled the urge to scream, "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Instead, I just shrugged my shoulder in a calm way that said I didn't give two beans about what he was asking.

For the next two hours, it was blissfully quiet as I drove and Malfoy gazed moodily out the window. But I knew it wouldn't last. Such things never did when Malfoy was nearby.

Well, that's it. Sorry it took me about FOREVER to get this up.

By the way, to all my beloved readers, I am an eighty year old woman who likes to quilt. I am in no way in high school. No way at all! ;)

(that was just a little note to a certain someone. If you ever get to this chapter, you know who you are!)


	9. Chapter 9

I am abjectly sorry for taking so long with this update. I know that some of you are ready to lynch me. I can only say in my pitiful defense that I lost interest for a while. However, in celebration of a new year and a new resolution, i will try to be better with updates. Thanks **SOOO** much to all the reviewers, of which, there were many. **_THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH_**

* * *

I glanced out my rearview mirror again. The fifth time in two minutes.

It was _his _fault, just like always. Malfoy was so tense, _my_ shoulders were aching.

We had been on the road for about three hours now, and it was nearing 11 o'clock and we still have not had a single glimpse of Lestrange. I didn't know if this was a sneaky maneuver of Lestrange, in order to lull us into false complacency, or if he just no longer felt like giving chase. But whatever it was, Malfoy obviously believed that Lestrange had some sort of sneak attack planned, considering the waves of careful watchfulness that were positively emanating from him.

"Relax, Malfoy." I finally snapped when I could no longer ignore the nerves skittering along my spine. "You're driving me mad."

"I'll relax when you relax." came the cool reply.

"I can't." I ground out.

"And why not?"

"Because.. Because.. Ohhh!"

"Very articulate you are, Granger."

I shot him a glare and was disgruntled to see him staring straight ahead with his too damn watchful eyes.

I painfully swallowed all the acid that wanted to come spewing out of my throat at him and turned to watch the road again. I figured it wasn't his fault if I had suffered brain damage somehow and thought him attractive. He couldn't help looking the way he did so it was unfair of me to be in a bad temper because of it. It was also unfair to still be angry at him for questioning me so closely about you-know-who. It was natural for him to be curious. And well, if he was tense, he had to reason to right?

Whatever.

He was prat boy and would forever remain so. No excuse could ever take care of that.

I pursed my lips together and kept my eyes on the road. I would ignore his presence. I would.

"Granger."

"What?" I snapped. Dammit, I had gone thirty seconds and he just had to ruin it.

"We need to take a break."

"What?"

"A _restroom_ break." he said urgently.

Finally, there was something to smile about.

"What, Malfoy, do you need to _pee_?" I asked gleefully.

"I do NOT need to pee. I need to use the restroom." he said haughtily.

"Same thing."

"_Pee_ is an incredibly vulgar word. Something only a mud blood would use, I'm sure."

I glanced at him sharply. "What was that?"

"I called you a--" Malfoy cut himself off, belatedly remembering that I was the one who controlled whether or not he would be able to _pee_.

"That's what I thought." I murmured smugly, turning back to the road. I began to sing quietly about a little stream bubbling its way down south.

I could literally hear Malfoy grind his teeth together. The sound was music to my ears.

"Granger.."

"All right, all right. Keep an eye our for signs that say Rest Stop or something then."

"I hate you, Granger, just to let you know." he said in a too pleasant voice.

I chuckled. "Ditto."

"Ditto?"

I waved a hand negligently. "It means something like, me too."

"I know what it means."

"Then why did you say, 'Ditto?' in your prat boy tone?" I retorted.

I saw out of the corner of my eye that one of his blonde eyebrows was arched in a very arrogant manner.

"It was merely me repeating a word you used, in an incredulous tone." he said.

"And why was your tone incredulous?"

Malfoy shifted in his seat and was silent. For a second I thought he wasn't going to answer me but then he spoke in a somewhat puzzled voice.

"The Granger I knew at Hogwarts was too prim and prissy to ever use words such as pee or ditto."

"The Granger you knew was a dead bore." I muttered darkly.

He shifted again and this time I turned to look at him.

Malfoy smirked. "She still is."

I couldn't keep the corner of my mouth from twitching with amusement.

"Ouch."

"That's right."

"And what about you Malfoy? Have you changed any?"

"Oh sure." he replied nonchalantly. "Lots."

"Like how?"

"I'm not a git anymore."

I snorted.

"I'm not."

I turned and gave him my most skeptical stare. "Riight.. Like I'm not a muggleborn."

"Well I'm not a git to most people. You just bring out the worst in me, Granger, what can I say?"

I turned back to the road. "You can try saying 'I'm a nasty git and will always be one no matter what others say in order to kiss my butt.' "

I heard a strangled noise emit from him but when I looked he had already schooled his features into a mask of neutrality.

We drove in silence for a few more minutes.

"I've gotten more handsome and overall sexy." he murmured finally.

My eyes bugged and I couldn't help thinking in my own errant head that I agreed. Merlin, the horror. I wanted to bash my head against the steering wheel and put myself into a coma. Unfortunately my sense of self-preservation was stronger than my desire for suicide.

I, of course, had nothing to say back to him so instead I remained stonily silent.

We drove in peace and quiet for another half hour, during which I only looked in the rearview mirror 10 times. Malfoy was infinitely more relaxed, most likely because of our squabbling, but his tense alertness was still getting at me. Not just that, but I hated the feeling of being lured into false complacency which is what I was sure Lestrange was doing. I hated being fooled in the best of circumstances, and having a mad, ex-death eater on my tail, or more correctly, on my ex-but-still-sort-of-enemy's tail, would never qualify as a 'best circumstance'. My passenger shifted in his seat and I couldn't resist.

I took a peek at Malfoy from the corner of my eyes and saw the customary haughty look he had worn so often during our years at Hogwarts. I wondered if he ever tired of having such a pinched expression and decided that since he so often acted like a prat, it must not take him a lot of effort to look like one too. Unfortunately, my infinitely amusing musings were interrupted by, who else, Malfoy.

"You agree don't you?"

I searched my mind to figure out what it was I was supposedly agreeing to, but I came up blank. I opted not to answer him since it would be so like Malfoy to trick me into answering in a way that would amuse him.

My silence must have alerted him to the fact that I couldn't for the life of me remember what it was we had been talking about because he chuckled.

"You so completely agree."

I stoically looked straight ahead and pretended that Malfoy didn't exist. It didn't work since I could practically feel his presence on me like a blanket.

"Granger, you think I'm sexy."

I almost slammed on the brakes. How did he know? I mean, oh, gross! That is an utterly disgusting idea! Sadly, my brutally honest side refused to let me lie to myself told me that I rather did think he had become.. Attractive. In a repulsively fascinating way, of course.

"And what makes you think that?" I managed in an only a little bit of a choked voice.

"That's how I said I changed, and you were silent."

"And?"

I glanced at Malfoy in time to witness his slight smirk.

"I took your silence for agreement. You didn't protest earlier."

"I find you.. Stupid." That lame sentence was the best I could come up with. I mentally berated myself and told my hormones to get some control.

"No, Granger, you find me sexy."

"Look, Malfoy," I paused and struggled to find the right words, "I know that you're feeling.. Frustrated, understandable since you've probably never been celibate for this long, but I find it wholly unreasonable for you to hit on me just to give your hormones the satisfaction." Plus it was driving MY hormones through the wall, I thought.

Malfoy actually chuckled. "I was hardly hitting on you, Granger. I'm not that desperate. Yet."

Okay, that stung. I knew that I wasn't the most beautiful woman in the world, and I was working on it, or I was planning on working on it in the very near future as soon as I got Malfoy off of my hands, but he didn't need to throw it in my face. I was doing him a favor, for Merlin's sake.

"Well, isn't that good then? I doubt your ego could stand the rejections it'd inevitably get if you ever deigned to stoop so low as to hit on me." I retorted bitingly.

"Granger, if I ever decided to make advances on you, you'd hardly be able to stand your knees will be quivering so hard, much less push me away." said Malfoy in an alarmingly leering voice.

"Oh honestly, this is the real world, not la la land where you're king of the world. You're hardly irresistible."

I was too busy thinking about how easily he COULD become irresistible that I didn't see the slight haze in the air that I would normally identify as a rebounding spell. Within a second of realizing it was there, I slammed into it with no time to use the brakes on the car. The Porsche ran into the spell with a jarring crash that I felt all the way through to my bones as the car immediately began to rebound off of the spell. However, because it was a muggle contraption, it had no stability, and just as soon as it rebounded, it flipped and rolled.

I felt the glass scratch my skin even as I felt other pieces of it penetrate and sink into my flesh. The pain was enormous and already a black cloud was descending on my mind, ready to take away the extreme hurt of being in a car as it rolled and broke all around me in a shower of glass. My last conscious thought was that I hoped Malfoy was okay, and right after that, I thought that it was ridiculous for me to care for his well-being when I didn't even like him.

It seemed as if I were struggling up through layers of suffocating black velvet. Too many times I almost gave into the urge to stop fighting and sink back into the comforting abyss of unconsciousness, but for some reason I continued to struggle. Eventually, after what felt like hours, I broke the surface and gasped for breath. That was when the pain slammed into me like an iron fist. I immediately stifled the urge to groan, a reflex left over from the years of war, as I quickly allowed my mind to remember the most recent events. An argument with Malfoy over, of all things, his attractiveness, then the quick realization of a shimmering rebound spell, the crash, then the following unconsciousness. I took an inventory of the pain. I had numerous scratches, both shallow and deep, from the glass, and it felt as if my left wrist was broken. Luckily that was not my wand hand, so I could still function. Unfortunately, I could not feel my wand poking me reassuringly in my magically extended right pocket.

I mentally sighed. If Lestrange had been intelligent enough to erect a rebounding spell, then it stands to reason that he was intelligent enough to take away my wand. Hopefully it hadn't occurred to him to break it, but I couldn't know. Lestrange's reputed madness would have swung him in either direction of breaking or not breaking a fellow wizard's wand. There were, of course, strange repercussions for one who broke someone else's wand, consequences that are either dealt by the wand itself or some higher power, however, the knowledge alone might not have been enough to stay Lestrange's hand if he was truly as mad as he was reputed to be.

I closed my eyes for a second and tried to think of a way out of this mess. Unfortunately, my brain still felt as if it were in shock because I couldn't think of a single thing. Years ago when I had been getting into messes with Har- with HIM and Ron, I used to be the one to think of ways to get out the binds we inevitably were stuck in. But now, when it might have mattered most, I couldn't think of a single plan. The panic I was just barely holding back was clawing at my mind at the thought that there was no way out.

As I was struggling to control my breathing and rein in the panic, I heard shuffling in the dark to my left. I quickly turned my head that way but could not make out anything but shadows and darkness. Unable to tell if Lestrange was in the room, I dared not call out for Malfoy, however, I did my own shuffling.

A few seconds later, I heard a cracked whisper.

"Hermione?"

Automatically, I replied, "Don't call me that."

"Merlin! This is not the time to be a bitch over something like that." came Malfoy's furious whisper.

Contrite, I whispered, "I'm sorry. It was just-"

"Yeah, I know."

A few seconds passed in silence.

"So do you have-"

"So do you have a-"

We both stopped, then quietly I whispered, "No, I can't think of anything."

So much time passed that I thought Malfoy hadn't heard me. I was just about to repeat myself when his defeated whisper came just as quietly.

"Me niether."

The panic came again, making it hard for me to breathe. I didn't want to die, and Merlin help me, I didn't want Malfoy to die either.

A few minutes passed in tomblike silence. Then so quietly, I almost didn't hear him, Malfoy whispered, "I'm.. sorry, Granger."

I chuckled softly and tried to ignore the hollow sound of it.

"Hey, we're not dead yet."

His silence said it all.

"So.. What's it like being the biggest womanizer in all of Great Britain?" I asked. I was desperate for conversation, for distraction, or else I feared I might have done the most horrible thing of all. Cry. There was so much that I had realized about myself and so much I wanted to change. I wanted to have the chance to do it. To really live. And now, I probably wouldn't be able to, all because I picked up a hitch hiker. And most puzzling of all, I didn't regret a moment of it. The bickering, the arguing, the unexpected and highly unwanted attraction, none of it.

Malfoy was silent and I was pretty sure that he thought I was cracked.

But then he answered in a cynically amused voice.

"It's.. pleasurable."

"Yes, I'm sure." I answered in a wry voice.

"I'd tell you about it, but I'd hate to destroy your precious illusions of the female sex." he told me with a leer in his voice.

"Try me."

"Well, I haven't really added it all up, so I can't be sure, but I think I've slept with maybe about 100 witches. Maybe more." he paused then added thoughtfully, "It's so easy to talk women into bed if you're rich. Looks aren't even a requisite, just a bonus."

Prude that I was, had only ever had one sexual partner, He Who Lied. Malfoy made me feel like a shriveled up virgin.

"What, only 100?" I teased in a blasé way that I didn't feel at all.

"Oh shut up, Granger. I know you're feeling all horrified at my promiscuity right now."

"Not at all." I paused then told a whopping lie. "Why, I've had just as many, if not more, sexual partners."

"Really?" Malfoy's one word conveyed a cauldron full of skepticism.

"That's right."

"I don't believe you." he answered simply.

"Well, it's true." I said defensively.

"You've probably only had one _sexual partner_, and that would be Potter." Malfoy snickered as if he had just said something amusing.

"Why are you laughing at the thought of.. _him_ and I in bed?" I demanded.

"Because I can't decide who would be the colder fish."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Granger. You expect me to believe you and Potter aren't cold fishes? I bet Potter tried to get you to save your virginity for until after the wedding." said Malfoy.

That wasn't entirely true and I didn't hesitate in saying so. Malfoy's reply was a snort.

"I'll have you know that he and I have a LOT of fun in bed. I can twist like a pretzel and well he.. He's very good!"

"Twist like a pretzel?"

I was blushing furiously, but Malfoy couldn't see that. Thank Merlin.

"That's right."

"And Potters.. Very good?"

"Of course." I muttered.

Malfoy was silent for about 30 seconds before he burst out laughing. The man was practically guffawing.

I chose to stay righteously silent. It wasn't all lies. Most of it.. Well some of it was true. I couldn't exactly twist like a pretzel, but I was somewhat flexible, even if I had never employed any of that flexibility in bed. And Harry was.. Well he was satisfying. Most of the time. We didn't have burning passion in bed, but we were satisfied. At least I had been. I suppose now, that Harry had been since he had to seek out Ginny. But that thought hurt more than my physical pains so I refused to think about it further.

"Shut up." I muttered fiercely.

"I'm.. I'm.. Sorry." he gasped. "That was just.. Very Good! HAHAHA."

"I hope you choke on you're laughter."

Malfoy laughed, I mean, guffawed, for a few more seconds before finally quieting down.

"If you hadn't remembered, we're being held by Lestrange, who may or may not be certifiably insane, not deaf, and he COULD have heard you, you stupid..ass." I said coldly.

"Sorry, Granger, but that whopping pack of lies you just told were too funny."

I sniffed.

"Granger, you couldn't possibly have believed I would have bought any of it." Malfoy said in a disbelieving voice.

"It's all true, so I don't see why not." I growled.

"Oh please."

"Well then tell me, Oh Wise One, why do you think it's not true? Even though it is." I said sarcastically.

"Because Potter doesn't have a passionate bone in his body." Malfoy answered flatly. "His whole life revolved around defeating Voldemort, and when it was done, well what did he have left? Was Potter supposed to go on and live a normal life? Voldemort was his passion. He had nothing left to live with."

I tried to ignore the ring of truth in Malfoy's words but I couldn't. I had noticed the change in HIM after the war. HE had seemed lost and without drive, but after a few months, it had seemed as if he had picked up his life again. And well, if there had been moments, they had been all too easy to ignore. I paused. Had it been me? Had I driven him to Ginny because I hadn't been enough to help him pick up his life? I stopped that disturbing line of thought. I needed to find myself and my footing before I thought too deeply on that.

"…And plus, you.. Well you.." Malfoy trailed off.

"No, don't stop." I snapped. "I can't wait to hear about how passionless, how much of a cold fish that I am. Please Malfoy, don't stop talking."

He was silent for a few seconds.

"Oh, you've got passion, Granger." he finally said in a curiously dead tone.

I said nothing. In fact, I froze. I, Hermione Sophia Granger, passionate? The idea was too alien, too strange, but somehow, I could almost believe it. Almost. But not quite. But then again, I didn't really know myself.

"It's just Potter wasn't and isn't the one who can see or let it loose. He could never."

"Oh and I suppose you think youcan?" The brash words were out of my mouth before I realized just how inviting they were.

* * *

Well, that took forever. Sorry its short, but writing on after that seemed like it would be anticlimactic. Sorry for taking forever with this chapter. 


	10. Chapter 10

This update is a lot sooner than my last one. I really have to apologize for that! (meaning that my last update took forever!)Anyway, enough of this. Read on!

* * *

There was a pregnant pause between the two of us that I could almost taste. I could hardly believe that those senseless words had come out of _my_ mouth. Wasn't I supposed to be the most intelligent witch of my time? What was happening to me? Or more to the point, what was Malfoy doing to me?

The silence dragged on and on until I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Look, forget I said it. It was just the feeling of inevitable death talking." I twisted around and strained my eyes in order to try and see his face. It was a pointless action but seemed to be one I couldn't help performing.

I opened my mouth to try and explain my words away some more when a door was suddenly thrown open. Bright light flooded in and my eyes, accustomed to the darkness, began to tear. I blinked, then squinted at the figure standing in the door way.

It was Lestrange, of course, but not the same Lestrange I recalled from those many years ago. That Lestrange had been whole and hearty. He had seemed strong and powerful, able to do anything for his monstrous master. But this Lestrange, he was a whole new person. Scrawny and bent over, his body showed the wear of running from aurors for years.

He stepped closer, and my eyes, now accustomed to the light let in by the open door, were able to make out the scars and the marks of war on his face. A chunk of his nose was missing, and a long scar ran from his left eyebrow to his chin left him looking piratical. Lestrange was pale and haggard, obviously a man long out of his prime, yet he still had one thing left from his glory days. The deep black of his eyes still held the fanatical look that had caused him to murder at least a hundred people for a monster and an insane belief.

"So I see my guests are finally awake." his voice, barely more than a croak, held a distinctly triumphant tone. "I've been waiting for quite a while."

I continued to stare in fascinated horror at his fanatical and definitely mad eyes, but he was no longer looking at me. Instead, his gaze had transferred to someplace behind me. I knew without a doubt that that was where Malfoy had to by lying with his hands tied just as mine were.

I turned my head to look at him, but he was staring straight back at our captor. His eyes, I noticed, had iced over completely, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to hear his wintry tone when he said, "And we're extremely sorry to have kept you waiting, Lestrange."

Lestrange nodded as if apologies were his due, then turned back to me.

"Ms. Granger, is it not?"

I struggled to sit up before I answered.

"That's correct." I said in a voice that mimicked the flatness of Malfoy's.

"To call my reaction surprised, at discovering he two of you traveling together, would be an understatement. If I remember correctly, there was never any love lost between the two of you during your time at Hogwarts, correct?" Lestrange actually sounded as if he were curious about my days at Hogwarts. Of course I knew all this politeness was a façade that covered an animal that lurked within this man, but I was still surprised at his solicitousness.

"You are correct. Malfoy and I have never had any liking for each other." I finally answered.

"Then why did you help him? Surely you know who he is."

"She helped because it was the civilized thing to do." Malfoy answered. "Of course, one can't expect you to understand that since you haven't a civilized bone in your pitiable body."

Lestrange's face turned ugly with rage and he took several steps forward. Though I hated it, I couldn't halt the compulsion to scoot back so I ended up sitting next to Malfoy, and though I glanced at him, his eyes were still trained on our captor.

"If you touch her, I swear to you, I'll make you sorry." The threat, though uttered in a soft voice, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Because Malfoy managed to scare me even though his threat hadn't even been voiced at me, I felt compelled to elbow him. When he finally looked down at me, I hissed quietly, "I don't need you to make threats on my behalf. I'm perfectly capable of defending myself."

Instead of answering, Malfoy frowned down at me as if I were a recalcitrant child then turned to re-engage in a staring contest with Lestrange. I wanted to fold my arms over my chest and pout but unfortunately, my hands were still tied behind my back.

"So protective, Draco." Lestrange taunted. " Surely you don't feel anything for the Mudblood? Even I didn't think you could turn _that_ traitorous to your blood."

"As half of my blood is my father's, I feel no compunction to honor it. So yes, I could actually be that traitorous." Malfoy's voice, if possible, turned even colder and emptier with those words. Obviously, there was much about Malfoy's past that had to do with his father that I didn't know, and because of the tone of his words, I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

"But one of Potter's," Lestrange spit the name venomously, "most religious followers?"

Malfoy studied his fingernails in a show of boredom. "If you must know, I have no interest in her. She is, as you say, nothing but a Mudblood."

His words brought a strong surge of anger and I couldn't resist hissing, "You bastard!" to Malfoy. To my complete disgust he showed no sign of even having heard me much less showing any sort of reaction. I subsided barely resisting a disgusted snort. The pig.

"Then why so protective of her?" asked Lestrange, and to all appearances, he seemed to be just curious, not completely mad.

"She has done me a favor in her helping of me so I will help her."

Lestrange glared, "You were never one to repay your debts before, Malfoy."

"None of the debts I've owed before were to honorable people so there was no need to honor them."

Malfoy held himself completely still as Lestrange silently digested his words. His show of calmness and apathy towards the situation, however, did not fool me because the arm that was pressing against my own was practically vibrating with readiness to go on the attack.

Lestrange suddenly focused on me and he smiled in a way that ran disgusted shivers down my spine. He moved as if take a step towards me. "Then you won't mind if I take your companion to another room and-"

"Just try it." I looked at the emaciated man before me with a calm face but I knew my eyes were burning with fury. "Go on, you revolting man, try it."

Lestrange turned apoplectic with anger. "That was a mistake, Mudblood." He advanced on me but before he could take 2 steps Malfoy stopped him with a few words.

"Take any more steps and you'll regret it, I promise you." His voice was quiet, his words uttered politely, but the intangible waves of venom and violence that accompanied his words brought even a chill to me.

I was no longer able to look at Lestrange's gaunt and incredibly surprised face, nor was I able to look at Malfoy's. Instead I looked everywhere but at them, and that was when I noticed the room where we were in. It appeared to be an old storage room that had been destroyed of all its belongings and contained nothing of worth. However, over my left shoulder I saw a broken body-length mirror with all its long dangerous shards on the ground before it, as well as a large rock that must have been the thing that had broken the mirror in the first place. Immediately, I saw the way out of this horrible mess, but how to distract Lestrange?

I turned towards him again and saw that he and Malfoy seemed to be engaging in a silent battle of wills. I barely resisted rolling my eyes. Men.

I ignored my niggling conscience and launched into step one of my escape plan.

"So, Lestrange, have you got the balls to try anything? Or are you scared of one unarmed muggle female?" I asked in a scathing voice.

My extremely instigative question managed to penetrate the concentration of both men and they both turned to gape at me in surprise.

Lestrange was first to snap out of it and an ugly expression of hate and madness filled his face. He stalked towards me and reached to snatch me up, however, I was already scooting backwards with a not so feigned look of panic on my face. When I judged myself to be close enough to the broken mirror I allowed myself to slip and fell completely down on my back. Malfoy unwittingly took my cue and launched himself at Lestrange in a fluid motion that managed to impress even me. He had gone from a sitting position to stand and jump Lestrange all in one second without any clambering. Being a rather clumsy person myself, I couldn't help but be impressed. However, none of that was the point.

Malfoy and Lestrange immediately started to grapple. And Malfoy was actually doing pretty well, considering his hands were tied in front him. I watched, somewhat awed, before I remembered what it was I was supposed to be doing. I immediately sat back up and scooted the bit more I needed to reach the broken pieces of the mirror. I felt around with my hands until I reached a piece long enough. Gripping it tightly in one hand despite the sharp edge, I began to saw frantically at my bonds.

I tried not to listen too closely to the thuds of flesh hitting flesh and hoped that Malfoy would be able to hold up against Lestrange for a few more minutes. Malfoy did, of course, outweigh and outreach Lestrange, but I had heard that madness always gave people superhuman strength and Lestrange was most definitely mad.

After what seemed to be hours but were really just minutes, my bonds were finally cut. I quickly brought my hands in front of me and massaged the soreness but a particularly loud grunt managed to remind me of what I still had to do. I quickly hunted up the large rock I had spied earlier and got to my feet. I saw that Lestrange and Malfoy were currently rolling around on the floor and Malfoy seemed to be holding his own, although madness and anger still shone brightly in Lestrange's eyes.

I quickly snuck up on the pair of fighting men and waited for my opportunity, which came when Lestrange rolled on top of Malfoy and began to choke him. I approached from behind and raised my right hand as high as possible. I saw that Malfoy's eyes had widened when he had seen me, or it could have just been the fact that Lestrange was choking out all the air from him. Whatever it was, before I lost my chance, I brought my hand down with all the strength I had and the rock thudded against the back of Lestrange's head with a sickening crack. He stilled for a second before collapsing completely on Malfoy.

All was silent in the storage room before I heard Malfoy's disgruntled voice.

"Get this smelly bastard off of me, Granger."

I threw the rock aside and dusted my hands off.

"Perhaps I won't." I murmured while I massaged my wrists.

"Granger.." he growled threateningly.

"But I'm just a worthless Mudblood, Malfoy, you said so yourself. I don't think I'm supposed to touch Lestrange's exalted, purebred body."

"Don't start that now, Granger."

"Oh all right." I approached and bent down. I rolled the unconscious Lestrange over then straightened. I studied Lestrange's lax face. It seemed to be even paler than it was before.

"I suppose I killed him." I said in an empty voice. It had been years since I had killed during the war and this seemed to be so entirely different from back then.

"Good." muttered Malfoy as he sat up.

I turned away and told myself it didn't matter if I had killed Lestrange because he had planned on killing us anyway. He had killed too many muggles and magic folk to count. He had deserved to die.

But I hadn't deserved to have to be the one to kill him. I couldn't help let a small sniffle out.

"Merlin! I can't believe it matters that much to you whether or not he's dead!" I heard him scoot around but didn't bother to face him. The vicious brute didn't deserve an answer.

"This ought to help you sleep at night, Granger. The bastard is still alive. Apparently Lestrange has an even harder head then you do." came Malfoy's somewhat disgusted voice.

I whirled. "You aren't joking?"

"I wish."

Immediately I felt better and not so nauseated. "That's good." I murmured. "Very good."

Malfoy studied Lestrange's prone body. "We should probably kill him anyway."

"What? No!"

"He'll come after us again." he warned.

"But we can't just kill him!"

"Why not?"

As if he didn't understand. "If we kill him now then it will be murder, not self defense."

"He's got my mother." Malfoy growled.

"All the better to let him live." I answered in what I thought was a logical voice.

"I'm not following."

I glared. "Well right now he can't exactly tell us where your mother is, can he? We'll need for him to wake up, but first we need to get out of here, get to New Orleans, get your magic back, then let him come after us. We'll be prepared then."

"I still think we should kill him. Then we can look for my mother." Malfoy glared back.

"You're so fucking pigheaded." I snapped.

Malfoy seemed to be in shock.

"That's right. I said fuck." I silently dared him to comment. When he didn't, I continued. "So, you can stay here and try to kill Lestrange with your hands tied together since you're so determined to become a murderer, but I am leaving. Why don't we just call it quits as a team because I honestly don't think you're worth the trouble, cold-blooded murderer that you are." I spun around and stalked towards the door.

From there I went up a flight of stairs, through a rundown house, and eventually stepped out onto a porch that looked out into vast nothingess. However, I was still angry at the ridiculously attractive man downstairs who I had begun to think had a soul, so I ignored all the sensibilities that I had grown up clutching so tightly and began to walk.

It had been stupid of me to begin thinking that Draco Malfoy might actually have a soul. To begin thinking that there might actually be some humanity in him. It was ridiculous, really, the betrayal I felt with the realization that he could kill so callously and so easily. It was almost as sharp as the betrayal I felt with Harry's actions. Which was stupid because Draco bloody Malfoy didn't matter to me.

At all.

Malfoy was nothing.

Why had I thought he had changed?

Fury at him and at myself kept me walking steadily for another fifteen minutes before I finally slowed.

I was so tired of being wrong. I was so tired in general. What had I been thinking to come here to America? This was no land of opportunity for me. Just another place to get disillusioned once more.

Malfoy's words rang mockingly in my head.

"… She is, as you say, nothing but a Mudblood."

God, I was so stupid. Malfoy would never see me for anything but another worthless Mudblood and I was an idiot to think that maybe he could. I was an idiot for even wanting him to. The circuits in my head had definitely been fried by my experience with Harry fucking Potter. I could say his name. HE didn't matter. No man mattered. They were all stupid. And worthless. And bastards. The whole lot of them.

Harry for his betrayal. Ron for his disloyalty. Lestrange for his madness. And Draco Malfoy just for being Draco Malfoy.

I stopped walking because my knees suddenly felt weak. All I wanted to do, then and there, was sit down on the dirt in the middle of nowhere and have a good, long cry.

What had I been thinking coming here?

Just think, if I hadn't gotten the insane notion to come to America and make myself over, I'd still be in London in my comfortable flat, with my comfortable life, my comfortable experiments, and with the normal, comfortably cold weather. Instead I was here, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the clothes on my back, in the hot, hot sun. I had been crazy to think I could redo myself.

I began to trudge on.

I'd always be boring Hermione Granger. Always striving to be the best so that I could prove myself to everyone who looked down on me because I hadn't been born to wizarding parents. So that I could prove that I deserved the magic I had.

Boring Hermione Granger who had always been out to prove herself but denying it to everyone, including herself. I laughed caustically.

What a time for another self-realization.

I walked some more and so deep was I in the scathing thoughts about myself, that it took me a while to realize that there were footsteps behind me. I tensed and whirled.

Only to find Draco Malfoy walking sedately behind me.

I huffed and stared at him. He stared silently back.

"What," I enunciated, "do you think you're doing?"

He took a step forward. "Following you."

"I told you to leave me alone."

He shrugged.

I gritted my teeth. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Leave me alone! Leave!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "No."

A thought entered my head and I tensed. "Is.." I couldn't get the words out of my tight throat.

"Get it out, Granger." The words were just indifferent enough to make me grind my teeth.

"Is… Is Lestrange still alive?"

Malfoy studied me silently, the expression on his face inscrutable.

"Does it really matter?"

I felt my heart sink and tears burn the back of my eyes.

"Yes." I whispered.

"Why?"

"Because.." Because I don't want you to be a murderer. Because I don't want to believe that you're capable of such cold-bloodedness. Because I want to see that you have some humanity left. "Because it does."

"Can't give me a solid reason, Granger?"

No, I can't and won't, I told him Malfoy silently. I refused to show him any more vulnerability. I wanted, in regards to him, to have none.

"Well, no matter the reason." Malfoy shrugged. "He's still alive. Unfortunately."

I released the breath I hadn't known I was holding.

"You're not lying?"

"He's as alive as anyone can be after being boshed on the head with a good sized rock." Malfoy grinned. "Good job, by the way."

I searched his eyes and wished that he was as easy to read as Ron was.

"You're not lying." It was more a statement then question.

"No, I'm not lying." Impatience finally showed. "However, I did truss him up nice and tight. I hope you have no objection to that."

"That's fine." I nodded. "Just fine."

"Good." Malfoy studied my face a moment longer then began walking. "So where are we heading towards?"

I hurried to catch up with his long strides.

"I'm not exactly sure."

"Not sure?" He stopped abruptly and faced me. I shaded my eyes and looked up into his angry eyes.

"Well, I was angry after I left you in the basement so I kind of just walked off into a general direction without bothering to look." I admitted.

"You mean," he began in a dangerous voice, "that we've just spent the last half hour walking towards nowhere?"

"We're walking towards _somewhere_. I'm just not sure where?" I finished in a weak voice.

"You," he announced in the voice of one making a grand statement, "are stupid."

"I am NOT!"

"Then how do you explain this?"

"A moment of insanity?"

"Or stupidity."

I began walking again and glared at the arrogant man. "It's your fault."

"Please explain that piece of thinking to me." said Malfoy sarcastically as he easily kept pace with me.

"If you hadn't made me so angry I would have looked where I was going when I left the house. Besides," I finished smugly, "you didn't have to follow me."

"So I was supposed to let you wander off by yourself?"

I jabbed Malfoy in the chest. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you."

"Of course you don't."

"Look, I'm not the one who has a time limit on how long it is before he goes quietly, or not so quietly, insane, Malfoy."

"That hardly signifies." he answered pompously.

"Oh? And why not?" I challenged.

"Because I have a month to fix that little problem whereas you wouldn't last a day out here on your own."

"Don't be such a fucking chauvinist." I retorted.

Malfoy smirked at me. "Oh please, Granger, you were counting on it back there."

"Back where?"

"Back in that house with Lestrange."

"I have no idea what you mean." I sniffed.

"You deliberately provoked Lestrange into attacking you with the hopes that I'd come rushing to your defense, thus giving you time to cut yourself free." Malfoy smiled a touch too smugly.

He was right, of course, but the infuriating man didn't need to know that.

"You're becoming delusional already, Malfoy." I gave him a fake, concerned look.

He laughed. "You can take credit for it. I thought it was a particularly clever little ploy. However, despite its cleverness, I do wish you had found a less painful way to provide a distraction."

I dropped my façade of innocence. "Nothing else would have been half as enjoyable as seeing Lestrange beat you into a bloody pulp."

"Yes, I'm sure." Malfoy smiled wryly.

I smiled back at him before I remembered.

I was nothing but a Mudblood to him. He hadn't killed Lestrange, but he was still capable of it. I shouldn't let myself get so comfortable with him because he was entirely too dangerous to me.

My smile faded.

Why was it he was so dangerous to me?

"A galleon for your grim thoughts?" Malfoy's voice intruded into my thoughts.

I shrugged lightly. "They're hardly worth that much, not that you have a galleon."

"Oh yeah."

We walked in silence for a while. I glanced around at our surroundings and noticed the sun was going to go down soon. I couldn't suppress a shiver. I had no desire to be out in the open at night and alone with Malfoy. I glanced at him and that was when I noticed he had a bag swinging off of his right shoulder.

"What's in the bag?" I asked quietly.

He glanced down at me then away. "Oh this and that."

"What sort of this and that?"

"A few old Daily Prophets I found when I searched the house.. Some food.. Your wand."

I grabbed his arm. "My wand! You found it?"

"It was in Lestrange's back pocket."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "You didn't ask."

"Well give it to me."

"All right, all right."

He swung the back pack looking bag in front of him and opened it. And that was when I saw it.

The Daily Prophet issue that had torn my life apart. The one with Harry and Ginny on the cover. The one that announced my being jilted to the world.

Malfoy held my wand out to me but I stared at nothing but that Daily Prophet.

"Granger..?" he waved the wand in front of my face. "You there?"

I shook my head slightly. Malfoy couldn't have seen it yet. If he had seen it already he couldn't have resisted mentioning it and since he had said nothing about it, then it was logical to assume he hadn't seen it.

"Yes. Give me my wand." I snatched it from him. I needed to come up with a plan to get that Daily Prophet issue from him.

Malfoy looked at me in surprise.

"I didn't know you were so desperate to have your wand back."

"I'm.. I'm very attached to it." I muttered. I needed a plan. I refused to allow Malfoy to know about my embarrassment.

"I can see that." Malfoy zipped the bag up and swung it onto his shoulder again. "I suppose we should stop and rest soon. It's starting to get dark."

I tried not to stare at the bag. "Of course."

"Now that you have your wand, maybe you can find out where we are."

"Sure."

I could feel Malfoy staring at me.

"Maybe I should carry the bag now." I suggested suddenly. "After all, you've been carrying it all this time.. It only seems fair."

"That's all right. I don't mind."

I nodded.

"Well maybe I could have the Daily Prophets?" I asked with just a tinge of desperation.

"What?" Malfoy studied me as if I had some strange mark on my forehead.

"Its just.." I fished around for a reason, "I didn't get a chance to keep up with the wizarding world before I went to America."

Malfoy was silent for a while. When he finally spoke, it was suspiciously.

"That's a lie."

"Excuse me?"

"You had a Daily Prophet in that hideous bag of yours. I remember."

My insides froze but I pasted a puzzled look on my face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. I remember because you were particularly protective of that Daily Prophet issue."

I laughed hollowly. "Malfoy, I didn't have a Daily Prophet in my bag. You must have seen something else."

Malfoy stopped and studied my face. "No," he said slowly, "I didn't."

I looked silently into his questioning eyes, then away.

"Why do you want my Daily Prophets so badly, Granger?" Malfoy asked softly.

I didn't answer.

He stooped down and swung the bag in front of him. "If you won't tell me, I'll just find out."

I turned and walked a few steps away.

Malfoy rustled around in his bag and it was quiet for a few seconds. I clenched my hands and eyes shut while I waited.

Finally, he spoke. "Harry Potter elopes with Virginia Weasley, daughter of Minister of Magic."

* * *

I'm not exactly sure why, but this chapter was a lot of fun to write. It didn't take me as long, and it seemed to come a lot easier. Maybe because the plot is starting to move a bit faster. Anywho, I hoped you guys enjoyed! Here's a poem for you all.

Draco has now found the truth  
Hidden deeply within the lies,  
Hermione can no longer hide the hurt  
It is spilling from her eyes.  
The plot is moving quickly now  
Lestrange is still alive,  
New Orleans is still far away  
Will they get there or will they die?  
So if you'd like to see what happens  
And you wish to see it soon,  
Reviews will help my muses flourish  
Which in turn cause new chapters to bloom.

By: Piper 1019

I had a poem of my own up here but it sucked ass, and one of my reviewers was so kind as to write a revised one for me which I absolutely LOVED! So thanks a lot **Piper1019 **fcr the poem 

PS. I'm also looking for a serious Beta who knows their grammar. I've been getting a lot of reviews that say I need help with grammar, and I'm definitely not disagreeing. So if you're interested and even willing to Beta my old chapters, just email me or leave a review!


	11. Chapter 11

I will not waste your time with unnecssary author's notes at the beginning of the chapter since i'm sure you're anxious to read this update. but i'm sorry for taking so long with updating! really!

* * *

The silence was literally deafening.

I could actually hear the blood pound inside my head and the sound of any scrap of pride I had crashing and burning.

Malfoy cleared his throat and it sounded like thunder booming.

I absolutely refused to turn around and face his smug looks and condescending smiles.

For some reason I thought of Ron and his sheepish face when he had realized I had figured out he was with Harry. I had been able to stand looking at him only because I knew he wasn't finding any enjoyment in my mortification. As for Malfoy, it was a completely different story. He had probably been waiting for this moment since the first time he had laid eyes on me. Since that first year at Hogwarts I had beaten him in tests continually, outsmarted him with Ron and Harry, and ultimately shown my superior intelligence.

Now here was proof of my stupid belief that Harry would be happy with someone like me. Someone too brainy. Too indifferent about her appearance. Too replaceable. God, I was utterly pathetic.

So imagine my surprise when he quietly murmured, "I'm sorry."

If it was possible, my spine straightened even more. Draco Malfoy didn't even know the meaning of the words, so how could he possibly mean them?

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Granger, I'm sorry."

"For what, exactly?"

Malfoy shrugged helplessly and my eyes couldn't help but follow the Daily Prophet still clutched in his hand.

"For what, Malfoy?"

He noticed my staring and approached me. I tensed but he only extended the Daily Prophet to me. I stared down at the paper offered in his elegant hands and took one end. He laid his other hand on mine and the part of my mind that wasn't reeling in shock at the sight of our joined hands, registered that his hands were callused. The moment disappeared as quickly as it had happened and I snatched the paper from him. Immediately, I turned and heaved the paper as far away as I could, and stayed there with my chest heaving and tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

No, I told myself, _don't cry over it again. You're done with tears._

I told myself, 

"For invading your privacy, I suppose. For Scar Head's stupidity even."

"Oh please, Malfoy, don't give me any of your condescending sympathy." I said tiredly.

"Condescending?"

"Yes." I snapped. "What else could it be? You don't know the meaning of 'I'm sorry' and you've probably never even said it once in your entire life."

"I'm saying it now." he huffed.

"But you don't mean it."

There was silence.

"Fine. I don't mean it." said Malfoy evenly. "I'm not at all sorry that Potter jilted you."

I sucked in an outraged breath.

"It would have been an entire waste for you to be devoted to him for the rest of your life."

I let it out in an explosion of surprise.

I whirled around. "What do you mean a waste?"

He gave me an inscrutable look. "Nevermind."

Suddenly I was so angry. Not angry at Malfoy, or even Harry. Just Angry. Mad. Mind-blowingly furious.

"Look Malfoy," I stepped closer so I could really get in his face, "I know I might not be one of those busty, beautifully overblown beauties that men like you Harry are used to having thrown at you, but I LOVED him. I know you probably don't know the meaning of the word, but it basically means I would have done anything for him. I would have given him everything that I had to give. I was.." and to my utter embarrassment I felt tears once again prick the corner of my eyes. I blinked furiously to try and make them go away. "I was utterly blinded by my stupid, pathetic love for stupid Harry Potter and this is where its got me. In America, in the middle of nowhere with a madman on the chase, with no money, no anything, and I've also got you here making fun of what happened between Harry and me." I would have kept yelling, I had that much spleen to vent, but by that time, my blinking wasn't helping the tears anymore and any second now I was going to start crying. So instead, I stared at Malfoy with my watery eyes hoping they managed to convey the amount of disgust I had for him, then stomped away.

"Granger…"

"Just shut up!"

I felt him shuffle up behind me. "He didn't deserve you."

"Why.. Why are you being so nice to me!" I sniffled.

"I never could stand up to a woman's tears."

"You could when we were at Hogwarts."

"You were hardly a woman then."

"You stink."

"Yes." I heard him sniff himself. "I definitely do."

Reluctantly I chuckled, then asked him what we should do.

Malfoy placed his hands on my shoulder and turned me around, and that's when disaster struck.

I don't know how and I definitely don't know why, but when I looked into his grey eyes, butterflies began to dance into my stomach and it felt as if ants were crawling all over my body. It was a queer feeling, but not in a bad way. I just stared at him for a while and he was definitely staring back. When I think back on it, he was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me and why I suddenly had such a bad staring problem. However, during that time, I swayed toward him as though in a trance even as my mind was shrieking at my body and asking it what the hell it thought it was doing. My body stupidly didn't listen, and before I knew it, I had pressed my body against Malfoys, torso to torso, and even worse, I had plastered my lips on his. They were firm and warm and I was overcome with an urge to just dive into him and hide from the rest of the world.

I felt as if I could find contentment in him, Malfoy of all people.

I traced my wanton tongue against the seam of his lips and obligingly he opened them, and with a small moan I deepened the already shocking kiss. My tongue boldly explored the cavern of his mouth and dueled recklessly with his own. I felt... There are no words to describe what it was I felt. I felt as if I had drank liquid fire that was pooling in my belly. I felt strong. Beautiful. So unlike the Hermione I was. And that was what jolted me out of my trance.

I was Hermione and she wouldn't do that? Would she? Would I?

And he was Draco Malfoy.

Oh Gods.

Draco Malfoy.

I tore my lips from his and pushed frantically at Malfoy. Instantly, he let me go and surprised, I stumbled back a few steps.

My heart was pounding so quickly and so hard I thought it might pound itself right out of my chest. My head, however, was paying no attention to my impending heart attack.

'Stupid girl!' It shrieked. _'You just threw yourself at Draco fucking Malfoy! What were you thinking! Are you crazy? What happened to all your vaunted intelligence! He only kissed you back because he's a virile man and hasn't been with a woman in who knows how long! He probably felt sorry for you! STUPID STUPID STUPID!'_

It shrieked. 

"I.."

Malfoy was staring at me. No big surprise there.

"I… I don't know what came over me. I apologize." I said stiffly while my cheeks burnt a Weasley hair color.

His eyes stared hard into mine. "You're sorry?"

"Well… I… Yes, of course. I have no idea why I did such a vulgar thing. It was completely unlike me. I suppose it was just the moment. Yes, that's why. I was just feeling so distraught I felt the need to well… I suppose it was just the culmination of all these recent events. I normally would never have behave so…" I trailed off as I realized I was babbling. Merlin, I had never been so embarrassed before in my entire life. Well, maybe as embarrassed as when I had read the Daily Prophet. But this, this almost eclipsed it.

"You're sorry?"

"I said I was!" I snapped defensively. "Isn't that enough?"

"Then I accept your apology." said Malfoy coldly.

"Good."

"Good."

I stared at him a second longer before turning away once again, unable to continue looking into his cold, granite eyes.

What had I done? And more importantly, how could I fix it?

I wanted, with a very strong, almost desperate urge, to just rip all my bushy hair out.

Why was I so stupid? Why?

Merlin, this was a mess. I was stuck in gods knew where with Draco Malfoy, and I had just thrown myself at him in what must have been the most desperate and pathetic move ever made in the last millennium. I was beyond pathetic, in fact, I was such an arse that I didn't even know a word for it, and that's saying a lot because I bloody well knew a lot of words.

"Granger," came Malfoy's voice from far behind me. "We need to get out of here."

I shivered slightly at the coldness of his tone. Why was it that when Malfoy and I almost reached an accord, almost became friendly, something had to screw it up? Or with this time, why did I have to screw it up?

"How do you suppose we do that?" I asked, turning back around.

He studied me for a second. "Set up a portkey. I'm assuming you know how…?"

"But…"

"Just do it, Granger."

I chewed on my bottom lip apprehensively. "We shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because… your magic is bound. You know the portkey will draw on your magic in order to transport you, and that's bound to result in something undesirable." I explained stiffly, uncomfortable under his perusal.

"Muggles aren't effected."

"You know that's because they have no magic. You do, and the portkey will try and draw on it."

Malfoy sighed. "Just do it, Granger. Damn the 'undesirable' consequences."

"I don't think we should travel by portkey."

"Well we haven't got a choice do we?" he finally snapped. "it's either portkey or walk to bloody New Orleans. I'd rather portkey."

"Fine!" I stomped closer. "Give me your boot."

"What?"

"For the porkey!"

Malfoy glared before bending down and wrestling his boot off. He reluctantly handed it to me and without further ado, I laid my hand on it and murmured, "_Portus_".

I knew, of course, what would happen to Malfoy the second we arrived in New Orleans. In seventh year, when I had found out about what had happened to Jared the Jokester, I became intrigued by the prospect of losing one's magic, whether by having it bound or by a natural disaster. What I discovered was horrifying. Magic was a living force inside of wizards and while it wasn't a separate being, it was distinctly tied to the wizard. Having it bound or lost created some very bad consequences for the wizard, for example, steadily losing one's mind. Also, losing magic through a natural disaster didn't mean one lost one's magic, just that something was blocking one from being able to reach it. Therefore, a wizard could have very little to do with magic once their own was lost because the magic pulsing through them called to the magic used on them, and since the wizard's magic could not naturally answer the call to it, the wizard automatically became very sick.

Knowing all of this, I shouldn't have used the portkey, but I did because he had made me so upset. Normally, I would have been able to ignore his prodding, after all, I had been subjected to it for seven years of my life already, but nowadays, I no longer seemed able to deal logically with him.

Otherwise, I wouldn't have kissed him. Perhaps I was going insane?

Okay, bad train of thought, lets not go there.

So, bad-temperedly I created the portkey, knowing what would happen, and the consequences were what I deserved.

A very sick Malfoy on my hands.

The Portkey had manged to transport us to a deserted part of New Orleans, and we only startled one of two vagrants, whose memories I quickly erased. As soon as Malfoy hit to ground, however, he threw up all the contents of the in stomach and probably some of his internal organs as well. I immediately felt horrible for what I had knowingly done, so it was with deep guilt that I stunned him in order to stop his vomiting, since I knew that we needed to move quickly before someone found us.

The rest of that day passed in a blur. I had to stash Malfoy someplace while I conjured upID cards and such for myself, the entire time I was doing so i feared that American aurors would pick up on my unregistered wand. Once I had finished all that, I quickly made my way to the nearest bank and got some quick cash for emergencies. Then I went into a relatively nice looking hotel where I put down a cash deposit for adjoining rooms. Once that had been done, I guiltily made another Portkey to get Malfoy and myself into the room since I didn't know how else I was supposed to get him past the hotel staff and guests. Feeling wretched, I put him into bed and with a bucket beside me, I _ennervated_ Malfoy and the next ten minutes passed with him vomiting. Not continuously, but after the first deluge, he would suddenly vomit again. Finally, he had nothing left in his stomach and was just dry-gagging.

The entire time I sat next to him and ran a cool, wet towel over his forehead. The poor man. I shouldn't have made a portkey, I had known what it would do to him. God, he was driving me crazy. It was as if instead of his magic being bound, it was mind, because I was starting to feel certifiably insane while Malfoy was still the cool voice of logic.

I helped Malfoy back onto his bed and got rid of the vomit filled bucket. When I went back into his room, Malfoy was sleeping, all the blankets thrown off of his body. For a second I just watched him, but then I began to notice that he was tossing around uncomfortably, no doubt because of his clothes and the fact that he was still wearing one boot.

Should I undress him, I thought, or should I just leave him as he is?

I badly wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, but he looked so miserable that I knew I had to do something.

I'll just get rid of his boot, I told myself.

I approached the end of the bed and tugged off his boot as well as his dirty socks. I stood back and looked at my handiwork, but it hadn't made a difference. He still looked bloody uncomfortable.

I closed my eyes. I'd have to be professional about this. I could take of Malfoy's clothes without _looking_, I wasn't tempted to look. I wasn't even attracted to him. Much.

Oh, Merlin, I was definitely losing it.

I hesitantly approached the head of the bed. Leaning down, I laid my hands on the buttons of his dirty shirt and slowly began to undo them. I got rid of that shirt to find him wearing an undershirt that was equally dirty. With trembling hands, I grabbed the him of it and inched the shirt upwards, trying my hardest not to stare at his delicious, no, well-defined sounded more impartial, abs. Then his undershirt slid past his pecs and I just about started to drool on him.

Get a hold of yourself, Hermione, I admonished myself, be professional.

I got rid of the undershirt and managed not to stare overly much. Then I moved onto his pants, which was pure torture. I managed to get those off with a lot of staring and I had to take a breather before I started on his boxer shorts. Let's just say that I was feeling very very warm and fidgety by the time I got those off. When I had finished stripping him, I drew the blanket over his body and quickly got out of there. I didn't think I could stand being in there without giving into temptation with a capital T.

So when I was back in my room, I stripped off all of my clothes then proceeded to take a very refreshing cold shower. It was a relief to be clean again and well, un-aroused.

When I went back to Malfoy's room, my hair wrapped in a pristine white towel and my body wrapped in one of those hotel-provided terry cloth robes, I was feeling heavenly. I approached Malfoy's bed and laid a hand on his forehead. It was burning. I knew that his body was currently going through an upheaval of some sort and was trying to bring everything back under control. I didn't know how long his magic-induced fever would last.

So saying, I went back to my room and transfigured the table cloth into a wearable skirt and my terry cloth robe into a tunic of sorts. I needed badly to do some shopping.

I left a note for Malfoy telling him where I went as well as a cup of cold water and a plate of sandwiches. Then, I set out on my adventure.

* * *

The Quarter was amazing. Filled with clubs, antique shops, and restaurants, I was mesmerized by it all. The music pumped loudly from all sorts of doorways, blues, jazz, rock, everything I had ever heard of. London was a dignified city, a proud mother who had a few seamy, secrets, but New Orleans was a teenager who gloried in her freedom, her newfound sexuality, and her beauty.

My eyes were wide as I tried to take all of this place in. It was amazing, the atmosphere, the humid heat that made one just want to take off all of one's clothes. The women were voluptuous and there was an air of exoticness and sexuality in the air that just made me goggle-eyed. I stared in the windows of shops I passed, windows filled with all manners of things, antiques, tourists items, advertisements for strip clubs.

As soon as I recovered from my awe, I went to the first car rental shop I saw. When I approached the desk I saw the clerk, a big black woman with hair that looked stiff with hairspray and eyes heavily lined with kohl, eyeing me with interest.

"How may I help you?" she asked.

I eyed her name tag, Joanne, and wondered if she'd be snotty like that other woman from the other car rental shop.

"I'd like to rent a car." I said, looking into her interested eyes.

"You're name?" She tapped something into the computer then looked at me questioningly.

"I…" I paused. Should I tell her my real name, I wondered. I mean, could Lestrange track me by my name? I shook my head and bit and realized that I was being silly. He was a wizard through and through, there was no way he'd know how to do that. Besides, I didn't really have a choice seeing that all I had was a credit card. "I'm Hermione Granger."

She tapped that in then waited with her shocking red lips pursed. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "you're Ms. Hermione Granger from Great Britain right?"

"Yes."

"We can't rent you a car."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"You've completely totaled a car that we've already let you rent." she looked solemnly at me, but I could see amusement in her eyes.

"Yes, but…" I had reported the accident to the business and told them where they could find it and that I would pay for the damages, but this was a different rental car place. "That was a different business than this one."

The woman, Joanne, leaned back in her chair. "Different business, cher, same company. Both are a branch of one company."

I nodded solemnly. "I see." What was I going to do? I needed a car in order to find the magical community in New Orleans. I mean, I knew that there was a magical community, I just didn't know where. And Malfoy probably knew where it was, but he wouldn't be up and about for a while.

My shoulders slumped and I gave the clerk a weak smile. "Well, thanks for your time." I turned to leave.

"Wait." she leaned over the counter and grabbed my shoulder.

I turned back around. "Yes?"

"Do you need help?"

"I need a car, but you're unable to give that to me." I shrugged. "I understand company policies."

"I know, and I'd give you a car if I could." she fluttered her hands haphazardly. "But, well, well I saw you rented a Porsche and those don't exactly come cheap."

I stared at her. "And?"

"Well, you're dressed like a beggar." I winced, but she went on, "Not that I mean to offend you, I just want t know why. Cher, frankly you look very lost and confused in our big, bad city of New Orleans."

I was, of course, but I wasn't going to let her know that. "I thought New Your was the big, bad city."

"New York is big." she grinned. "But it ain't as bad as New Orleans. It's the French, you know."

I smiled back. "I see. I," I paused, there would be any harm in telling this woman right? It couldn't possibly be any harm to tell her that I needed to find a place with to find some nice clothes and that I was completely and utterly lost and had no idea what to do. "I am a bit lost." I admitted, finally.

She just smiled. "So tell me what you need."

"Well, I need transportation."

"How much cash do you have?"

I thought about all the money I had withdrawn from my account. "Enough."

"Well, then take a cab. It's easier than driving yourself anyway."

"Okay. I also need new clothes. I, er, lost my luggage." Sort of, I added silently.

The clerk, Joanne, eyed my body. "Yes, you do. There's a bunch of boutiques on this street. Just go five shops down, and the next three boutiques you encounter are the one's I'll recommend. They've got quality stuff."

I nodded. Five shops down. Right. "Thanks." I said. "I've been through a lot, sort of, getting here." Just a little car chases, being cursed at, being captured, those sorts of things. "So thanks, for being the bit of sanity I needed to put me back into working order."

Joanne smirked. "Honey, my friends will tell you that I'm anything but sane. You're welcome though." She took my hand and give it a firm shake. "If you need anything else, I'll be here to help."

I smiled back and left.

When I went into the first shop, I was immediately given relief from all the hot humidity. The place was cool from an effective air conditioner and I could see that Joanne hadn't been lying she had said that this shop had quality clothes. I could tell from the atmosphere and the people browsing through the racks that this was a high-class boutique.

"Excuse me," a short woman with kind eyes approached me, "can I help you?"

I smiled at her and wished I didn't look frumpy and sweaty from my walk, "I, er, need a new wardrobe."

The woman stared at me. "An entire wardrobe?"

I fidgeted. "I, er, lost my luggage. Joanne told me that this was a nice place."

"Joanne at the car rental?"

"Um, yeah."

She smiled. "I'm Annie. If Joanne sent you, then you're welcome here. She's my cousin."

I stared, this delicate, white woman didn't look remotely related to that exotic, black woman I had just met. "Your cousin?"

"Through marriage." Annie took my arm and led me toward a spacious dressing room. "Do you know that we make money through commission? If your serious about needing an entirely new wardrobe, you can be my future child's godmother."

I laughed. "I'm serious. And, um," I blushed, "despite the way I'm dressed now, I can afford it." Since I knew she had to wondering because at the moment I didn't look like the type who could afford shopping at this boutique.

Annie smiled kindly at me. "I don't doubt it, not if Joanne sent you here." she rubbed her hands together with glee, "now, do you want me to help you pick out your clothes, or do you want me to let you pick out your own clothes, or would you like me to pick out all your clothes? I have exquisite taste, by the way, so you can trust me." she assured me.

I took in her tasteful attire with a blouse that hinted at cleavage and a skirt that molded to her hips. "I think I can trust you. I have really horrible taste."

Annie practically glowed. "Wonderful. Just sit here, and when I bring something in, try it on and say yay or nay." she said, then left without waiting for me to answer.

For the next three hours I tried on shirts, blouses, skirts, pants, shorts, shoes, bras, everything that Annie brought in. Mostly, I loved everything, even some of the daring things that she pressed on me, but even the ones I wasn't so sure about Annie made me get and since I trusted her judgment, I bought pretty much everything she approved, which was a lot.

After I had spend a huge amount of money that I could barely comprehend, I staggered out of the store once Annie and I had exchanged our profuse thanks. I could barely manage to flag down a cab, so laden I was with shopping bags.

Once I got to the hotel and once the doorman managed to get all my bags up to my room, I went to check on Malfoy. Since he hadn't touchedthe glass of water or the sandwichesI had left for him before I went shopping, I knew he had stayed asleep the entire time I was gone. Not only did he sleep, but his fever still raged with a hot fire I could feel in his forehead. The portkey traveling had made him sicker than even I could comprehend. I spent the next hour nursing him and giving him some fever medicine I had gotten from a muggle store earlier that day. Then, once room service brought dinner, I managed to get a little broth down his throat, and more water.

The next week passed uneventfully. Every day I explored some of New Orleans while I looked for the magical community. I kept my eyes peeled for anyone that looked the least bit magical, but saw no one. Every once in a while I stopped by the car rental shop to speak to Joanne, or the boutique to let Annie talk me into buying something else.

I also wore my new clothes and was amazed by my transformation. I no longer looked like a frumpy nobody, instead I looked sophisticated, and sometimes I even managed sexy. It was invigorating. It was, frankly, amusing. Imagine, Hermione Granger sexy. What a thought.

Malfoy was still sick. He had had some moments of lucidness, but mostly they were very short and he didn't seem to recognize me. He babbled a bit, but I paid no attention since none of it made sense. During the times when he was a bit conscious I used those opportunities to get as much food in him as I could. And I knew the lucidness wouldn't last because his forehead still burned terribly.

Every day I searched for the magical community, and by the end of that first week in New Orleans I was getting frantic. It had been maybe two weeks since Malfoy's powers had been bound, and he didn't have much time left.

Jared the Jokester, had by this time, in his diary, started getting forgetful and moody. The first signs had already shown themselves by the two week mark. And I was worried. About Malfoy.

If he didn't wake up in time, or if he woke up and was already insane, I didn't know if I could stand the guilt. I shouldn't have made the portkey. No matter that we had just kissed and I was confused and flustered beyond belief. I shouldn't have done it.

It was irresponsible, it was stupid, it was wrong, and if Malfoy didn't get through this, it'd be my fault. All mine.

On Monday, the beginning of the third week, I was sitting by Malfoy's bed holding his hand in between my own.

"Wake up, Malfoy." I told him. "You can't stay asleep forever. I need help in order to help you."

I gazed out of the window. I knew it was stupid to talk to him, since he couldn't talk back, but I couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Look, you prat," I said, transferring my gaze from the window to him, "you can't just make me do all the work. You have to wake up and tell me where that place is. I can't find it all on my own and I know you know where it is!" I glared at his still face. "Isn't that just like you, Malfoy. You're probably just sleeping to spite me! For kissing you." I covered my mouth automatically for mention the kiss, and it took a few seconds to realize I hadn't let go of Malfoy's hands, instead I had brought it up with my own and was pressing it against my lips. Quickly, I dropped it. "Yeah, that's right. I brought up the kiss. And you know what? I'm not sorry." I whispered. "I'm not sorry for kissing you. It's your own fault for having utterly kissable lips." I shook my finger in his face. "Are you listening to me, Malfoy? Can you believe I just said you have utterly kissable lips? Do you realize how crazy you're driving me? I'm not being logical anymore. If I was I wouldn't be so fucking attracted to you! Do you know what Ron would say to me if he could see me now? He'd tell me I was crazy, and I'd agree. I am crazy. I'm going senile and I'm not even old enough for that. This is all your fault." His face was still so still and I wanted him to say something to me. Anything, I just wanted him to wake up. I didn't want him to keep sleeping. I didn't want him to go crazy.

"Fine, Malfoy," I said, dropping my face into my hands, "if you want to be stubborn and stay asleep, then go ahead. I refuse to feel bad if you end up in St. Mungo's ward for crazy people." I didn't realize I was crying until tears leaked out of my hands. "Look what you've done to me prat! I'm crying over you! Merlin kill me now, I can't believe it." I lifted my head and stared at Malfoy out of tear drenched eyes. "I told you that you were making me crazy! Do you believe it now? I'm crying! Over you! The impossible has happened!"

And still his eyes were closed and his face expressionless. "I hate you, Malfoy. You've been so nice to me lately, especially when you found out about Harry. I just don't get you! I don't! Really, you can't be anymore confusing! You're supposed to hate me! I'm supposed to hate you! That's how things go. That's what its supposed to be like. Instead, I'm here, nursing your sorry arse and crying over you! I hate you. And you won't even wake up so I can tell you! And when you do wake up you probably won't care because you'll be crazy!" I laughed slightly hysterical. "You'll be crazy."

I knew then that I needed to calm down. I sniffled and studied his face. He was so beautiful, but his face was so cold. His expression was so cold. I remembered him smiling, even laughing, and it was hard to equate that man with this stone-still man. I felt so guilty I could hardly stand it. I stood and leaned down to brush his hair from his face. His smooth face which I magically shaved every morning. Eventually, I straightened and left the room, unable to stand being in the same room with him any longer.

The next morning I was in there again for his daily shave. I set his head in the right position and as I leaned over him, as I was standing so close to him, the urge I had been suppressing for days finally overcame my restraint. Nervously, I looked around the room. Silly, I thought, no one would see.

Finally, I did what I had been wanting to do for days. I laid my lips on his lips and gave him a chaste kiss. I closed my eyes and felt his lips underneath mine, so soft and warm, despite his stillness. I moved over to his cheeks, then his nose. I kissed both his eyes, memorizing his face by the feel of it from my lips. With my eyes still closed I kissed his forehead, and that's when I realized something strange.

His forehead. It wasn't hot anymore. In fact, it was just a little warm. Normal temperature.

Surprised, I snapped back and straightened.

And that's when Malfoy moved. His eyelashes fluttered, then, slowly, he opened his eyes.

Malfoy gave me a sleepy smile. "Hello, Hermione. Wish you kissed me more often."

* * *

Yes, I should be burned, whipped, humiliated beyond belief for not updating. I'm very sorry. I lost interest in this story for a while. It's kind of in a transitional stage for the plot, and I'm still deciding what I should do with Hermione and Draco. There are just too many possibilities out there.

I'm also wondering if I'll continue this story once HBP comes out. I feel as if I've turned Hermione and Draco into characters that don't really go with the books, which can be just because they've developed in my story, which is natural, or they've been OoC the entire time and I just didn't notice.

We'll see what happens when HBP comes out. Until then, I'll try not to wait so long in between updates.

I'm really sorry!


	12. Chapter 12

Draco- I mean Malfoy woke up briefly again the next day. And the next day after that.

I was very sure during those days to keep my hands to myself. Not that it was hard, or so I told myself.

Finally, after three days passed since his very, erm, surprising comment, Malfoy came fully conscious around lunch time.

"Granger?" I heard him ask hoarsely from his room.

I was in my bedroom changing, so I quickly tugged on a shirt I had just bought the other day and went to him.

"Malfoy." I said from the doorway. "You're awake."

Great, Hermione, I thought to myself, state the VERY obvious. So clever you are.

Malfoy looked at me with a frown in his eyes. "I'm damn thirsty too."

I nodded and hurried to a pitcher of water I kept on the nightstand. I poured him a cup and handed it to him, making sure that I didn't accidentally touch his fingers.

Hey, a girls got to preserve her sanity, you know.

"Should you be sitting up?" I asked, eyeing his naked chest.

I know, that's not really conducive to preserving my sanity, but it wasn't as if I could _help _it. I was going to work my way up to his eyes eventually.

Malfoy shrugged bad-temperedly and continued to drink his water, his eyes closed and a thread of tension running through his hands.

I tore my eyes from his chest and bracing myself inwardly, I laid my palm on his forehead.

And the weirdest thing happened.

I felt a tingle up my arm, but since I had braced myself, I managed to keep the façade of being unaffected by his touch, but Malfoy on the other hand, actually flinched. As in, flinched away from my hand. Like my touch was too much for him to handle. Weird, right?

"Are you all right?" I asked, bending down slightly to look into his eyes. I was seriously worried that perhaps his bound magic was already affecting him.

Malfoy returned my gaze for a second and then his eyes unexpectedly dropped.

To my cleavage. Cleavage that was currently slightly revealed by the gaping neckline of my new shirt.

Malfoy reared back just as I quickly stood.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Granger?" Malfoy snapped. "And where did you get that shirt?"

"I was just checking your temperature. And making sure you're feeling all right." I replied defensively.

Malfoy just looked down my shirt. That was, well, I don't know, downright strange. Since when was Malfoy interested in my breasts? Since when did he even notice that I had them?

Malfoy frowned at me just like I was frowning at him. "You didn't answer my other question." he said, narrowing his eyes. "Where'd you get the bloody shirt?"

"I went shopping a few days ago. I've got an entire suitcase full of shirts like these." I crossed my arms underneath my chest and sure enough, Malfoy's eyes once again dropped from my own eyes.

Okay, what was going on? That was the second time. Weird.

"An entire suitcase."

I nodded.

"With necklines just as low as the one you're wearing?"

I frowned at Malfoy again. Why on earth was he asking about my necklines? "The neckline of this shirt is hardly low. I've seen a lot of women around here practically hanging out of their shirts."

Malfoy muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Nothing." Malfoy shook his head and looked at me as if he were trying to figure something out. "So you went shopping while I was here on my deathbed?"

I snorted. "Hardly your deathbed seeing as how you're awake right now and looking healthy enough."

"I could have died while you were out shopping your little heart out, Granger."

"But you didn't, so stuff it."

"You wouldn't have even cared!"

"Of course not!" I shouted. "It was your bloody idea to portkey, so why should I have? You got what you deserved!"

Malfoy stared at me stonily. "I see." he shrugged a bit, "if that's that case, I hope you can find it in your kind heart to provide a starving man with lunch or something."

I glared at him a second before turning away and going into the kitchen.

And okay, so maybe I did care about his dying. I mean, the poor guy was going slowly insane even if he wasn't showing it. Which must mean he must have some awesome willpower.

But anyway, I _did_ leave him something to eat and drink while I was out. It wasn't as if I left him with nothing. And I did care about him, I suppose. I mean, normally I wouldn't, but these were highly unusual circumstances. And I was attracted to him. Which was… I couldn't even think of a word that described how strange _that_ was.

But yes, I did care about Malfoy, at least a little bit. But it wasn't like I was going to tell him now. I mean, what was his problem anyway? Oh wait, he's Draco Malfoy. I guess that _is _his problem. But I mean, it was almost as if he had woken up to be another person.

He had looked at my breasts. Twice. In the space of five minutes.

I didn't think he even noticed I had breasts during our years of Hogwarts.

When I brought the sandwiches back into Malfoy's room, I found him sitting up, the bed sheet riding dangerously low on his hips, and yes, his chest bare in all its glory.

Was he trying to drive me crazy with him? It would so be like Malfoy to be one of those 'misery loves company' sort of people.

"Would you put some clothes on?" I asked grumpily, putting down the plate of sandwiches on the table with a slight crash. So a naked Malfoy turned me on as well as made me grumpy. I didn't _want_ to be attracted to the damn prat.

"Does it bother you?" he asked snidely, not moving from his position on the bed, not even to get the sandwiches.

I straightened and gave Malfoy my best glare. "No." I turned to leave. "By the way, I'm going out, so I hope you can manage alone."

I heard him mutter something behind me, but I didn't bother turning around. Bad-tempered prat. I hoped that he would choke on his sandwiches.

After I shut his doors, instead of going out, like I said I was going to do, I sat in the living room. What I needed was peace and quiet to think about things.

So, first thing on the list was my incredibly screwed up life.

I was a jilted bride. I had lost two of my closest friends. My family was probably worried sick about me. I was probably breaking numerous contracts on this extended vacation of mine. My self-esteem was in tatters, and my own identity was a mystery to me.

Great. Wonderful. What a perfect life.

Second thing on the list: my incredibly screwed up libido.

I was attracted to Draco Malfoy. Rat-faced, poncy git Draco Malfoy. The enemy of my childhood. My most despised nemesis. A man who was slowly going crazy. A man with an already crazy man on his tail. A man, with a most sexy body.

Oh, Merlin. I'm losing it.

Could I please just stop thinking about his body?

It's pale, I told myself, and white, and… and… yummy.

I groaned loudly and buried my face in my hands.

I needed professional help.

I was still bemoaning my loss of sanity when I heard the bedroom door creak open. I looked up and saw Malfoy framed in the doorway. Wearing nothing but his sheet.

Which reflexively made me want to kill myself.

I was almost drooling.

Which was wrong. Wrong.

Rule Number One: No drooling over Draco Malfoy. It's undignified. And wrong.

"What do you want?" I asked him tiredly.

"I thought you were going out."

I shrugged. "I'm tired."

We stared at each other, I with eyes hopefully not too obviously lustful and he with eyes that were just plain confused.

"Did you want something?" I asked again.

Malfoy shrugged and padded forward a few steps. "Clothes, for one thing."

I closed my eyes slowly. "Of course. I'm sorry." I said without opening them. "I'll get on that soon."

Malfoy sat in the arm chair across from me. "I don't mind. The sheet's quite comfortable."

"Are we going to be nice to each other now?" I asked bluntly. I mean, I was tired. Just plain tired. And I wasn't in the mood to fight with anyone. Least of all, Malfoy.

"I suppose." Malfoy looked away. "Was I a tiresome patient?"

"Not really. You slept most of the time."

"I…" he paused, "I didn't say anything, did I?"

My heart leapt into my throat. "No." I choked out. "Nothing. Why?"

He met my eyes. "I have a tendency to mutter strange things. Or so my mother said."

"I see." I stood and brushed my imaginary lint off of my pants. "Are you still hungry? Because I can go and make some more sandwiches."

I know, I was being uncharacteristically nice, but I was desperate the change the subject.

"No." Malfoy made to stand up but seemed to think the better of it since he was still wearing a sheet. "Granger…"

I turned wholly against my will. I did NOT want to see more of bare-chested Malfoy, I swear.

"Yes?"

"I…"

My heart began to pound a little harder. "Yes?"

"I wish…"

I drew in a deep breath. "Yes?"

"I wish," Malfoy paused, then shook his head slightly, "that I had some decent clothes." he finished.

I literally felt myself deflate. "Right." I nodded decisively. "I'll take care of that as soon as possible."

"You do that."

I stumbled into the kitchen, closed the door, and leaned against it.

What was wrong with me? Why did I get so nervous and excited when it seemed as if he would say something important. What did I want him to say?

I took a deep breath then pushed away from the door. I was leaning into the refrigerator and looking for the lettuce when I heard the door open.

"Look, Granger." said Malfoy.

I clenched my eyes shut and kept my head in the refrigerator in order to hide my expression. "What?" I asked.

"I just wanted…" he paused. "Well, just thank you. I wanted to thank you for all you've done for me."

I felt my stomach drop. "No problem." I said in as normal a voice that I could muster. "I'd do it for anyone."

"Of course you would." replied Malfoy. "Good, altruistic, Granger." he muttered.

I closed the door of the refrigerator with a bit of a slam. "And what of it?" I snapped.

"Nothing." Malfoy shrugged bad-temperedly, "not a thing."

"You know, I don't understand you." I waved a head of lettuce at him. "One second you're being excruciatingly polite, and the next you get all," I paused and tried to think of a sufficient word, "all agitated."

"Agitated?"

"That's what I said."

"Riiight." replied Malfoy sarcastically.

I glared at him. "Oh, go put some clothes on."

Malfoy smirked. "I would if I had any."

I glared at him. "I hate you."

"I thought we had a truce."

I hefted the lettuce and thought about throwing it at his head. "Truce over."

"So soon?"

"Yes." I stared down at the mess that was supposed to be a sandwich. Globs of mayonnaise hung over the edges of the slices of bread.

Malfoy was shooting my concentration to hell.

And I was, well, agitated.

Stupid prat.

I looked up to see Malfoy leaning nonchalantly against the door. He looked like a bloody Greek god in his sheet. And that only made me more upset since I knew that I had to be looking like a mess right then.

How bloody unfair.

"Stop staring at me." I said irritably.

"Stop staring at me." replied Malfoy.

I blushed since I was doing exactly that.

"You know," I said, brushing my hands on a dish cloth and abandoning my attempt at making a sandwich, "you get bloody annoying."

Yes, that was a desperate attempt at changing the subject.

Malfoy grinned. "My sentiments exactly."

I grimaced. "I'm going to get you clothes soon, you know." I said, my eyes dropping down to his bare, delectable chest. I mean… Merlin I just thought his chest was delectable. "Shoot me now." I muttered.

"What was that?" asked Malfoy.

"Nothing." I said quickly. "Just thinking out loud. I do that, you know."

"You seem a bit flustered, Granger." Malfoy studied me with perceptive eyes. "It's not my state of undress is it?"

"Course not." I answered a bit too quickly because I was, of course, flustered. What female wouldn't be? "You're, um, physique is hardly that impressive."

"Liar." said Malfoy in a low voice.

"What?"

"I happen to know I look good."

I gaped at him, I couldn't help it. "Of all the conceited things to say, I can't believe-"

"And I know you think I look good." interrupted Malfoy.

"Are you mad?" I asked in a shocked voice. Because really, the only reasons why he would say that would be because he was either mad or he could read my mind. And since I knew he couldn't read my mind, he had to be going mad. Which he was. But I didn't think it would start to show for a while longer since Malfoy had already exhibited a strong sense of self.

"Not mad." replied Malfoy. "Just hopeful."

"Are you… I can't…" I shook my head. "You aren't… You're not flirting with me… are you?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Maybe. Or I could just be going crazy."

"But you just said you weren't mad." I pointed out in what I thought was a reasonably calm voice.

"I could be wrong. After all, how do I know if I am going crazy." Malfoy paused. "Do YOU think I'm going crazy?"

"Well, according to what happened to Jared, you're on the road. As to how far gone you are, I wouldn't know." I answered truthfully. And really, I didn't know whether I'd prefer a mad Malfoy or a flirtatious one, because a mad Malfoy would mean more trouble but a flirtatious one would mean the world had gone mad. How was I supposed to pick one over the other?

"I suppose…" Malfoy said slowly, "I suppose the answer as to whether or not I'm mad lies in you."

"In me?"

"In you." confirmed Malfoy. "Was my assumption about you admiring my body true or false?"

"I…"

What was I supposed to say? Admit that I had been secretly salivating over him? Never. Lie and make him think he was mad? What was a girl to do?

"I… Why are you doing this to me?" I cried.

"Yes or no, Granger. You're one of the greatest minds of this century, so a yes or not question can't be too hard."

"Yes. No. I don't know." I said, completely flustered. "You're behaving strangely. Why?"

Malfoy looked at me thoughtfully. "I suppose it's because I don't have much time left. I haven't really thought about it until now, but it's been almost two weeks since I lost my wand."

"So then…"

"When its too quiet or I have no one to talk to, I can feel my mind deteriorating." said Malfoy quietly. "It's a hard feeling to describe, sort of like something on the edge of my consciousness that tells me that I'm forgetting something, and as time goes on, it gets harder and harder for me to remember what that is."

"Your magic."

"Yes."

"So what are you saying?"

Malfoy took a step forward and instinctively I took a step back. There was something predatory about his eyes that made me distinctly uneasy.

"I haven't much time left."

"We'll find a way out of this for you."

"But if we don't…"

"We will." I assured him.

"But if things go wrong, I don't have a lot of time left, so it seems to me I should make the most of the time I do have."

"And?" I asked hesitantly.

" And you have to know, Granger, how much more attractive you are now then when we were at Hogwarts." said Malfoy quietly.

"I don't…"

"And these past few weeks, you've been much more stimulating than the women I'm used to." he said taking another step forward.

I snorted derisively even as I took another step backwards. "Sick of empty-headed bimbos are you, Malfoy?"

"Utterly."

I swallowed nervously. "So what?"

"So I find." Malfoy paused and looked at me seriously. "I find that I'm attracted to you."

Another step forwards for him and another backwards for me.

I took a deep breath. "Well, that's nice of you to say so, but-"

"And you're attracted to me."

"That's…" I took another deep breath since I felt like hyperventilating. "that's a pretty big assumption."

"Yes," said Malfoy, his gray eyes predatory, "but true."

"How do you," I broke off when my lower back hit the stove. "Stop stalking me!"

He grinned. "I'm not stalking you."

I waved my hand agitatedly. "Then what do you call this?"

"Conversation?"

"I don't think so."

Malfoy stepped closer, making him so close that I could feel the heat coming off his body. Needless to say, my knees were jelly.

"Then what do you call it?" asked Malfoy.

"Seduction?" I answered weakly.

Malfoy chuckled and the deep sound made me shiver like the heroines in cheesy romance novels.

"If I were bent on seduction," Malfoy lifted a hand and ran a finger lightly down my cheek, "you wouldn't have to ask to see if you were being seduced." he cupped my chin. "You would know."

"Oh."

"I'm going to kiss you now." whispered Malfoy.

"Whether or not I want you to?" I whispered back.

"That's right."

"Okay."

And yes, Malfoy kissed me. The kind of kiss that the cheesy romance novels always rave about. It made my knees weak, my heart thunder, and my head spin. His kiss made me feel possessed in a way that Harry's never made me feel. The lips, the teeth, the tongue, they were all used with expertise and Merlin help me, I responded in a way that I never responded to Harry. Desperately, longingly, fiery. Inhibitions were incinerated and I all but leapt into his arms in an attempt to get closer to him. Malfoy's kiss was more intimate than sex.

When he finally lifted his head, my eyes were glazed and my knees were no longer holding me up.

"Well." I finally said. "Well."

"You aren't going to apologize are you?" asked Malfoy seriously. "Because if you apologize for kissing me I might strangle you."

"You kissed me." I pointed out. "So if anyone is doing any apologizing it'll have to be you." I paused. "You aren't going to are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Good. Did I…" I searched his eyes. "Did I apologize last time?"

"Yes." answered Malfoy shortly.

"Oh. Well, I was flustered. I mean it was sudden. There was no warning that time. Not like this time. Since this time you said ahead of time that you were going to-"

"You're babbling." interrupted Malfoy.

A very bad habit I needed to stop, I admonished myself. Now was not the time to act like an idiot.

"Well, I'm a bit flustered right now. After all, we are, I mean were, mortal enemies." I looked down at his arms around my waist. "And now we're in each other's arms. Not exactly mortal enemy behavior."

Malfoy grinned and his arms tightened. "I think I like it better this way."

"I… me too." I admitted. "But what now?"

"Now?"

"This changed things." I pointed out. "We can't exactly go back to the way things were."

"Well," Malfoy looked at me thoughtfully, "I suppose we could just jump into bed now and become lovers."

I reared back in alarm. I admit, I admired the man's body, but that didn't mean I wanted to just jump into bed with him and have sex. I wasn't made for casual sex.

I took a deep breath and got ready to tell Malfoy that, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw the mischievous look in his eyes, so instead I smacked him against the arm. "You're teasing."

"Maybe." Malfoy leaned down and gave me a brief, hard kiss. "Maybe not."

"Well." I took a deep breath. "We can't really afford to mess around. After all, you don't have much time left."

Malfoy nodded. "You're right. But first…"

And he kissed me again. I enjoyed every second of it.

* * *

Sorry this took forever guys. School was swamping me. I'm finally on summer vacation, but unfortunately its only a month of freedom. Then it's back to school. Updates are going to be fewer and even farther between, but honestly, this coming year will afford me no time to write. So i apologize in advance for my slowness. I hope this chapter was entertainging enough to make up for it. Thanks for all the reviews, i really appreciate them!


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